


Survival Instincts

by nameonehero



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, Garrett's a dick, M/M, Mentions of past abuse, Puppy Liam, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-05-18
Packaged: 2018-05-21 00:28:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 119,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6031417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nameonehero/pseuds/nameonehero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam Dunbar's just trying to survive the zombie apocalypse with his best friends . . . then he meets a tall dark haired stranger with irritatingly calm eyes and a mocking smile that changes everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Kindness of Strangers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [red_to_black](https://archiveofourown.org/users/red_to_black/gifts).



> Inspired by this amazing work and its incredibly talented author: http://archiveofourown.org/works/5230694/chapters/12062717
> 
> I'm completely obsessed with the concept now and needed to get it out. I figured the world always needs more zombie AU haha.

**Liam’s POV**

Today was the day that Liam was going to die.

It hadn’t happened yet, but he had little doubt that the moment was quickly approaching. Just as quickly as the shuffling footsteps and rasping moans that were following behind him.

What was supposed to be a simple recon to scout out the new neighborhood was now a sprint for his life – into an abandoned assembly factory no less. THAT was probably his worst move of the day.

_Fuck_. Maybe he deserves to die.

The situation might be a little brighter if he had a real weapon, but Garrett never lets him carry the pistol.

_“We’ve got limited ammo, Liam.”_  He mocks his best friend aloud, throwing open a set of double doors and desperately searching for anything that looks like an exit.

He somehow managed to make his situation worse. The room he found himself in was pitch black and there weren’t any exits in sight. A quick scan with his flashlight, however, shows that there are no zombies either, so he decides against turning back.

_“I need to keep it. What if corpses come after Violet? We need to protect her Liam.”_

“Asshole.” He mutters, hopping over a conveyor belt and ducking down on the other side.

His hands are shaking, but he manages to pull the small tactical knife from his boot.  _“Besides, you have a weapon. You’re a badass bud, you’ll be okay. I know you will.”_

Well . . . he was going to prove him wrong today. Not that Garrett would even notice. Liam had given up everything for his best friend and all Garrett cares about is Violet.

Liam does his best to take a steadying breath while he waits for the inevitable sound of corpses to come meandering through the door.

Minutes pass and nothing comes. Liam was just beginning to think that maybe they’d lost his scent or found someone else to munch on when a sound came from off to his left.

With just enough time to raise his knife in the air, his flashlight lands on the decayed corpse bearing down on him. And what does he do?

_He freezes_.

But – in the most unexpected turn on an already fucked up day – something sharp bursts right through the zombie’s forehead and splatters Liam in black blood and brain matter. A moment later the dead (redundant) corpse collapses right on top of him and Liam kind of wishes he’d just died instead.

It takes a moment to collect himself and come to his senses, but when he does he shoves the stinking, rotting body off of himself and scrambles to his feet; doing his best to keep down his lunch.  _Metaphorically anyway. Lunch went the way of the balanced meal once the zombies came._

“Should’ve checked your corners.” An unnervingly calm voice rung out and nearly gave Liam a heart attack.

“Wha-?” Liam was still trying to hold down the meager contents of his stomach at the overpowering scent of death that hung in the air.

“You didn’t check your corners.” Liam can’t see who’s speaking to him in the darkness, but he can tell that he’s close. Really close.

“I- I was running. I didn’t have time to . . . who are you?”

“Names Brett.” A flashlight flicks on and Liam’s suddenly blinded. It only lingers on his face for a moment, before its wielder turns it on himself and Liam relaxes a bit. The guy can’t be much older than him and he doesn’t look all that dangerous.

He was cute, actually. Really cute.  _Fuck. Not even close to a good time, Liam._

“And you should always check your corners.” Brett clicks the light off. “One of the first rules. After cardio and double tap.”

Liam has to let that sink in for a moment. This is _surreal_.

“Zombieland?” He arches a brow in the darkness. “Really? You don’t get enough of them?”

“You’re the one who led a herd right into my home.” Brett doesn’t sound angry, but a rush of guilt comes over Liam nonetheless.

“Oh . . .” He feels awkward, standing in the darkness with this guy. “Sorry. I didn’t know anyone . . . lived here.”

He’s met with a deep chuckle. “No worries, shorty. Needed to get moving anyway.”

Liam opens his mouth to protest at the nickname, but is cut off before he can get a word out.

“Now,” Brett’s already moving away from Liam, walking down an aisle between two of the conveyer belts. “We need to go. Try to keep up.”

Liam hesitates, but is about to do as told, when he hears an unmistakable click and feels the blood freeze in his veins. It was stupid of him to let his guard down.

“I’m not gonna shoot you.” Brett’s voice is different, still calm, but also somber. “Not if you don’t make me. Just a precaution. Y’know?”

Liam nods his head slowly. _Not that he can see it in the dark anyway, idiot._  “Y-yeah.”

“Let’s go.” Brett waits a moment, then sighs. “Look, you  _will_  be zombie chow if you don’t come with me right now. I didn’t shoot you before and I don’t plan to now. You can even stay behind me if you want.” He starts to move away again. “Just know that my reflexes are pretty good.”

_Move Liam._  He forces his feet forward, hurrying after Brett before he’s left alone in the dark again.

He follows the other boy out a locked side door and down multiple winding hallways. He has absolutely no idea how Brett even knows where they’re going, never mind whether he should actually be following this guy he just met in the first place.

_They’re gonna be expecting you back soon._

“Fuck.” He hears the other boy breathe. Then he’s nearly shocked to death by the feel of a large hand on his shoulder. “It’s me. Chill and go back.”

“What’s wrong?” Liam asks, his voice betraying how afraid he is while he back-steps out of Brett’s reach. He hasn’t been able to see anything for minutes now, relying solely on Brett’s navigation.

“Gotta find a new way out. Can’t you hear your herd waiting for us on the other side of this door?”

_What door?_

“Oh . . . yeah. Of course.” He can almost feel the incredulous look in the taller boy’s eyes. “What do we do now?”

“Now,” Brett enunciates, “We go up. I’ve got a few contingency plans.”

Liam follows Brett for what feels like an eternity in the pitch black, until he hears a heavy metal door creak open and then the light from Brett’s flashlight is blinding him again.

“Hold it.” He presses the light into Liam’s palm.

Wrapping his fingers around the metal, Liam obeys Brett’s gestures and shines it into the stairwell. As if the building wasn’t creepy enough, it needed a concrete stairwell that looks like something out of a horror movie.

“It should be fine.” Brett speaks reassuringly and Liam feels heat rise to his cheeks.

Hopefully the other boy can’t see his red face in the dim.

“I barred all the doors into the stairs, except the one on this level and the roof. We’re gonna take the fire escape down from there and then we’ll grab the cure, inject it into the nearest biters, save the world, and retire with a harem of bikini models.”

Liam looks at him dumbly.

“I’m kidding.” Brett flashes an alarmingly cute smile and pats Liam on the shoulder. “You need to relax.”

Then he’s gone into the stairwell before Liam has a chance to stammer a response or ask him to stop touching him so much.  _Is it rude to ask someone to stop touching you after you invade their home with a herd of zombies?_ He wouldn’t get the chance to find out by standing here.

It didn’t even take a minute for the two of them to reach the roof of the building and step out into the bright sunlight.

“Shit.” Liam hisses, shielding his eyes at the abrupt brightness.

“Same.” Brett’s face is scrunched up, but he keeps his eyes open and walks to the roof’s ledge. “Looks clear. No biters waiting for us down below.”

“I’m Liam.” Liam blurts out. _Smooth._

Brett turns to face him, slowly. Then he smiles and walks back over and  _holy shit he’s tall._  Like, almost an entire foot taller than Liam, tall.

“Nice to meet you, Liam.” Brett extends his hand and Liam shakes it, trying not to notice how much bigger Brett’s hands are.

_Shit_. Brett’s even more attractive in daylight. His eyes are clear blue, bright and calm, which kind of makes him look eerily serene and his dark hair is shorn short on the sides, but longer and curly on the top.

Liam stops himself from taking in the rest of Brett – all 6 foot whatever – and tries to smile. “Uh, thanks.” He hopes Brett can’t tell he’s staring. “For saving me and all.”

“Ah,” Brett waves him off, but Liam can tell by the smug tilt of his mouth that he likes being owed. “Just doing my civic duty.”

“Still . . .” Liam’s unsure how to say what he means. Brett’s one of the few people he’s met since everything went to shit who hasn’t immediately tried to kill him.

“You’re a mess.” Brett steps back and looks Liam up and down, making him even more uncomfortable than he already was.

Liam looks down and sees the thick, slimy blood that was beginning to dry all over his chest and left shoulder. There’s even chunky bits still clinging to his clothes, which he quickly shakes off with a shudder.

“Sorry.” Brett laughs _and_   _fuck if that’s not a sound Liam wants to hear more of_. “Didn’t mean to make a mess of you.”

Liam’s lips curve a bit and he shakes his head, averting his eyes. He needs to get home.

“I have to go.” He mumbles, looking at the taller boy. He isn’t so much asking for approval as . . . no he’s asking for approval. Brett’s the one who just saved his life after all, not to mention that he has a gun.

_And a machete hanging at his side. That’s not terrifying at all._

“So soon?” Brett cocks his head to the side. “I thought we were starting to get along.”

Liam can’t help but laugh. This guy is definitely something else.

“I need to get back to my-” His words catch in his throat.

_How are you so fucking stupid?_  A cute stranger bats his eyes and Liam’s spouting information and babbling like an idiot. For all he knows this guy is a serial killer or a fucking cannibal.

And now he’s putting Garrett and Violet at risk.

Brett’s eyes narrow at Liam for a second, but then realization seems to set in and there is a quick flare of emotions that don’t last long enough for Liam to recognize.

“Right.” He scratches the back of his neck, “I got it. Stranger. State secrets.”

“It’s not that.” Liam is quick to apologize.

“No need to explain yourself, kid.” Liam cringes at ‘ _kid_.’ “You’re just looking out for your people. I understand.”

“Where are your people?” Liam asks, trying to get off the subject of his friends and stop feeling like such an ass.

“Don’t have any.” Brett says. “Not anymore.”

Liam doesn’t need to ask what happened.

“Where have you been staying?” Liam asks. He couldn’t have been making it on his own for an extended period of time. Everyone who did that went insane within a month.

Brett shrugs. “Around. I’ve been in Boston about 3 years, easy to avoid herds and dodge those dicks at Fenway when you know the area.”

“Fenway?” Liam asks.

“Baseball Park.” The scrutinizing look Brett gives him makes Liam want to curl up and die.

“I know that, I just-”

“Relax.” Brett smiles again and Liam thinks that it might be his least and most favorite thing about this guy. “Jeez, you really do need to lighten up.”

Liam does his best to smile and look relaxed. He doesn’t want to imagine how he actually looks. “So Fenway?”

“You haven’t been in Boston long have you? Everyone knows to avoid Fenway and their patrols, everyone who’s still around that is. They kill or kidnap everyone they run into and judging by the screams whenever they catch new people, nothing good goes on inside the stadium.”

A noise behind them ends their conversation and Liam manages to spin just in time to see a corpse pushing through the door and onto the roof.

“Back!” Brett’s forearm takes Liam by the throat – roughly – and throws the younger boy to the ground behind him.

Liam was in the process of falling to the concrete and didn’t see what happened, but when he manages to look up he sees Brett wielding a machete that’s covered in black ichor and there’s a zombie head cleaved in two at his feet.

Brett lunges forward and shoves a second corpse back into the stairwell, slamming the door shut and pressing his back to it.

“Liam.” His voice is a lot calmer now. “Grab that.” He’s pointing to a broken board, a few yards away from the pair.

Liam just stares at it for a few seconds, trying to put together what just happened and reorient himself.

“Anytime now would be great.” The taller boy’s voice is slightly more urgent, as a slam on the other side of the door almost knocks him to the ground.

“Right!” Liam scrambles to his feet, kicking himself into action. He grabs the board and rushes back to Brett, sliding it into the two metal rungs behind him.

“That’s only gonna hold a minute.” Brett nods at the door. “We gotta get going.”

Liam agrees. He needs to get home.

The pair descend the rusted fire escape together and find themselves in an empty alleyway.

“Follow me.” Brett doesn’t wait to see whether or not Liam would, already moving off towards the main road.

Liam rushes after him. He has a vague idea of the direction he needs to go to get home and Brett is already heading in it. No sense taking a detour that could get him killed.

“You know,” Brett begins, holding an arm out to signal for Liam to wait, while he scans the street. “I never asked why you’re in Boston in the first place. You’re definitely not from the area.” He glances back and looks Liam up and down, then smirks when he sees the slight blush that comes to Liam’s cheeks.

_Knock it off_. Liam reprimands himself silently. Maybe this guy doesn’t seem like he’s going to kill him, but he sure as hell can’t trust him. And blushing and mumbling in front of a stranger is definitely not a way to assert his dominance.

_“Always make sure they know you’re in charge, Li.”_  Garret once said to him,  _“If you’re caught and they don’t kill you right off the bat, they can’t think you’re weak. You need to be strong. For Violet . . . and me.”_ Liam takes a deep breath, remembering the way Garrett had cupped his jaw and brushed a rough thumb over his lip.

“No.” Liam steadies himself, planting his feet a little bit and trying to look neutral. “California, came east trying to find someone.”

“No shit?” Brett looks over his shoulder as he waves Liam forward and the two cross over to another alleyway. “I was born in Cali, came out here for school before the biters came.”

“Family move?” Liam asks, continuously looking back to make sure they aren’t being followed.

“Nah, just me. Started at BU after high school. The  _plan_  was for me to be a doctor.”

“College?” Liam wrinkles his nose and looks at Brett a little differently.  _What kind of person wanted more school after school?_

Brett laughs at Liam’s reaction. “Yes, college. You never thought about it? Wait . . . how old are you anyway?”

“Eighteen.” Liam says a little too quickly. “And no . . . I failed half my classes in high school. Never had the attention span for it.”

Brett nods slowly, seeming to be both checking for zombies and taking in Liam’s words.

“So, you’re what? Fourteen? Fifteen?”

Liam blushes.  _Fuck_.

_“Always lie about your age. The older, the more threatening. Hopefully you’ll start growing an actual beard soon to cover up that baby face.”_ Liam was failing through all of Garrett’s rules today.

“Sixteen.” He huffs defiantly, and this time the red in his face isn’t just embarrassment.

“Huh?” Brett purses his lips, apparently not noticing Liam’s anger. “You’re short.”

He turns back and starts moving before Liam can say anything else.

_I’ll fucking show you short._ He wants to ditch this guy now, but he isn’t really in a position to. He  _could_  backtrack and find his way home from the factory, but the sun is starting to go down and it’s at least a two hour walk from there back to the apartment where his friends are. Being out at night alone is slightly worse than being stuck with this condescending asshole.

They’d walked for almost an hour before Brett spoke again.

“I didn’t mean anything by it.” He says cautiously, and gives Liam an apologetic look. “The short thing. Just making talk.”

Liam nods, chewing at his lip. He hadn’t figured the silence was because Brett knew he’d upset him, he just thought he’d been focused on not getting them eaten. Liam  _is_  angry, but it isn’t really the time and besides, it’s not like Brett’s the first person to ever call him short.

“It’s cool.”

“Good.” Brett hesitates, but then starts moving again.

The sky was ablaze with pink and orange. Liam used to like watching the sun set and for a brief second – when he closed his eyes – he pictured himself lying on grassy hill with Garrett and Violet, his head on Garrett’s stomach while Violet was curled into Garrett’s side, the three of them enjoying the warm weather and freedom before Freshman year started.

Now sunsets only meant darkness and fear. Not being able to see was one of the worst things that could happen in this world, where humans were prey to corpses and to other humans.

“We’re almost there.” Brett says a little while later.

“Where?” Liam asks, suddenly. He’d followed Brett at first, only because they were going in the same direction anyway. Then it became a habit of sorts. Liam’s used to following, Garrett always made sure of that.

“That apartment you’ve been staying at.”

Liam stops dead in his tracks, immediately kneeling and reaching for the knife in his boot.

“Relax.” Brett only half-turns to face him. “I should have said something before. I’ve been watching you,  _not_  to hurt any of you, just making sure you’re not working with Fenway. Not that many people are coming into the city these days. Not really the smartest decision for your people either.”

“Whatever.” Liam’s fingers touch the knife, but don’t pull it free. “Just let me go.”

“Do I look like I’m holding you hostage?” Brett holds out his two empty hands. The machete is once again hanging in its sheath from his belt and the pistol’s holstered. “Was walking you home is all. You clearly don’t know the area.”

“How long have you been watching us?” Liam asks, not moving.

“Few days.” Brett keeps that same impassive look on his face that’s beginning to drive Liam insane. “Saw you stumbling around that convenience store the other day and followed you home. Couldn’t get close enough to see if you were one of  _them_ , but when I saw you coming my way today, I figured it was my chance.”

“You saw me coming?” Liam’s fingers inch back from the knife.

Brett holds back a small chuckle. “You think I always leave the front door open? Or that I wait around in dark rooms for teenagers to come leading herds right to me?” He briefly glances over his shoulder, making sure nothing is creeping up. “I wanted to see if you were working with Fenway. That’s why I flashed the light at you. They all have scars on their necks,” He draws a line with his finger from the curve of his jaw down to the hollow of his throat, “Some type of weird initiation ritual. You didn’t have one. So I didn’t kill you.”

“You were gonna kill me?” Liam spoke. He’d half-expected it, but hearing someone who didn’t kill you say they were going to, is a little jarring.

“Truthfully?” He tilts his head a bit. “I’m not sure. You’re a kid, I’ve never killed a kid before. But those people . . .”

Liam waits for Brett to continue, but he doesn’t. Silence comes over the pair, until the taller boy turns around, not waiting for Liam to rise from his position.

“Let’s get you home.”

And no less than ten minutes later, they’re on the sidewalk outside of the apartment.

“It was nice meeting you, Liam.” Brett smiles and reaches out to pat Liam’s shoulder, but the younger boy flinches away. “Sorry. See you around.”

“Wait.” As irritating and dangerous as he might be, Liam doesn’t want Brett to go. Sure he’s home now, but Brett  _did_  save his life. “I mean- like, do you have a place to go?”

“Got a few options.” Brett shrugs and Liam is pretty sure he’s lying. He’d just led a bunch of corpses right into his home. “Besides, I know the area like the back of my hand. I’ll be fine, thanks for the concern.”

“I wasn’t, I mean, I didn’t . . . you saved my life is all.” He can’t meet the other boy’s eyes, settling on staring at his sneakers. Running shoes. More practical for fleeing than fighting.

“We’ve already established that  _and_  that I only did what any upstanding citizen would do.”

Liam laughs and looks up at Brett. He can’t ask him to stay, but he doesn’t feel right turning someone – who he’s 90% sure isn’t hostile – out on the street at night.

Then Brett shocks him by letting out a cry of pain and collapsing on one knee.

Liam’s about to kneel next to him and see if he’s okay, when he sees Garrett standing over Brett, wielding a tire iron and holding a gun to his head.

“Garrett-” Liam reaches out, trying to stop his friend.

“No problem, Li.” Garrett smiles at him. “I told you I’d keep you safe. Maybe this one can even tell us where to find Peter.”

“Who the fuck-?” Brett was turning his head with a violent scowl on his calm face, as Garrett swung again and bashed the taller boy right over the head, knocking him to the pavement; unconscious.

Garrett holsters the pistol and hooks the tire iron through his belt. “Grab his feet, we’ll keep him upstairs for now.”

“No, Garrett stop.” Liam wants to kneel and see if Brett’s okay. The tire iron had split the skin on his head and his hair is matted with blood that was pooling on the pavement beneath him.

“What?” Garret narrows his eyes at Liam. “Don’t tell me you found yourself a boyfriend while prancing around in the apocalypse.”

“No, it’s not- fuck you.” Liam spits. “He saved me.”

“He was probably going to eat you.” Garrett laughs, bending down to grab ahold of Brett’s shoulders. “Now help me.”

Liam wants to argue with him, wants to tell him to stop being such a dick, but he never knows how to say what he feels – especially not to Garrett.

“Wait.” Liam strips off his flannel over shirt and kneels to press it against the side of Brett’s head. “He can’t tell us anything if he’s dead.”

Garrett shrugs in agreement and presses his hand to the flannel, holding it there so that Liam can grab the guy’s legs.

He’s careful about it, wrapping his arms above the knee – that’s where it looks like Garrett had first struck him.

It’s a struggle, but the two of them manage to get Brett up the three flights of stairs and to their apartment.

“New friend?” Violet asks, watching the two of them haul Brett’s body inside and drop him onto the couch.

“Liam caught us a tour guide.” Garrett jokes, then takes both the pistol and machete from Brett and deposits them onto the counter that separates the living room area from the kitchen. He follows them with his own weapons.

Violet smiles at Liam. “Good job, babe.” She then goes back to the book she’d been reading.

Liam watches Garrett go into the kitchen and search through the cabinets. He knows his friend and he knows he can be a jerk sometimes – most times – but he doesn’t think he’ll seriously injure Brett, not unless Brett tries something first.

Nonetheless, he eyes the tall boy’s body, sprawled out and slack on the couch.

“Relax Liam, your boyfriend will be fine. I didn’t even hit him that hard.”

Liam spins angrily on his friend.  _Why does he always have to make those stupid jokes?_

His open mouth clicks shut when he sees that Garrett is holding up two pieces of rope.

“Just gonna tie him up.” Garrett assures him, “He’s definitely a skinny fuck, but he’s tall and that could count for a lot in close quarters.”

“He’s not going to fight us.” Liam argues, but takes the piece of rope that’s handed to him and begins tying Brett’s wrists behind his back, while Garrett works on his ankles.

“Tighter, Li. Seriously, stop being such a little girl. If you really like him, we can let him go once he tells us everything he knows.”

“That’s not-” He stops objecting when he feels Garrett’s hand on his shoulder and leans into his friends touch. He usually hates it when people touch him, but Garrett’s his best friend. He’d never try to hurt Liam.

“Let me.” Garrett gently pushes Liam’s hands off of Brett’s wrists and tightens Liam’s knot.

“Alright.” The blond boy stands and pulls Liam up with him, “You should tell us what happened.”

* * *

 It took him a while to tell the entire story to Garrett and it took even longer when he had to restart after Violet walked in during the middle of it.

The three of them are all sitting in the apartment’s only bedroom, – Garrett and Violet’s bedroom – Liam on the edge of the dresser and his friends at the foot of the bed.

“So he’s just a good samaritan?” Violet asks when Liam finishes talking.

Liam shrugs. “That’s what it looks like.”

“He could be lying.” Garrett suggests. “He might even be one of those Fenway people . . . we need to find Peter.”

“He could know where to look.” Liam says. “He found us pretty quick.”

“You said he was gonna be a doctor.” Violet looks back and forth between them. “If it’s true he could be doubly useful.”

“Looks like a preppy douchebag to me.” Garrett mutters. “Think Peter’s gonna take us back if we try to bring in someone like that? We disappointed him once, we shouldn’t risk it again. He wants us . . . just us.”

“So we cut him loose before we find Peter.” Violet offers.

“Think he’s just gonna go? No questions asked?”

“Immediate problem, guys.” Liam jumps in. “He’s bleeding out on the couch right now.”

“Relax, Liam.” Garrett wipes at his face, tiredly. “Anyone who’s survived this long can handle a little bit of bruising. I didn’t hit him hard enough to kill him.”

“Still-”

“We’ll take a look at his head in a minute.” Garrett assures him. “But you really need to remember what we’re doing here. Remember who’s kept you alive this long and whose side you’re on.”

The three of them are quiet for a few moments, while Liam stares at his boots and chews on his knuckle.

“You’re right.” He sighs and runs a hand through his dirty hair. “I’m sorry. I think I just need to sleep.”

He really does need rest. He hasn’t slept in almost 24-hours and he’s getting so worked up over someone he just met. Sure, Brett seems decent, but Garrett was still right. Finding Peter is what they crossed the country to do and Brett could have planned to kill them all.

“It’s okay, bud.” Garrett stands and helps Violet to her feet. “Get some sleep. You can have the bed for now, we’ll keep an eye on our new tenant.” He turns to leave, but then stops and whispers something in Violet’s ear before kissing her.

Violet leaves the room and shuts the door behind her.

“Li.” Garrett moves closer to him, pulling him off the dresser. “You’re a mess.”

Liam doesn’t look in his eyes. He won’t, he knows what Garrett’s trying to do.  _He always does this_. Be a dick to Liam all day, then send away the witnesses so that he can be nice for five seconds.

“Hey.” Garrett’s hand finds Liam’s waist, tugging him up close. “I’m sorry I made fun of you, okay?” His chin nudges Liam’s cheek. “Look at me. I’m sorry.”

And like always, Liam gives in. His eyes meet those of his best friend and he forgives everything.

“I know.” Liam whispers. “I’m sorry, I’m getting so worked up over it.”

“Not your fault.” Garrett breathes right in his ear, his hands tightening on Liam’s hips. “Can’t blame you for getting attached to someone who helped you out. You just gotta remember who your family is, Li.”

“I know.” Liam nods, trying to hold himself together.

“Alright.” Garrett pulls away, and Liam does his best not to whine at the loss of contact. “Try to sleep. I’ll make sure he’s still breathing when you wake up and we’ll even check on his head. Don’t worry Li, I’m looking out for you.” And with that, Garrett vanishes from the room.

He didn’t realize how dark the room was before, but now that he’s alone he has to fight down the panic.  _Relax Liam, you’re three stories up from all the corpses and Garrett’s right outside. You’re fine_.

He pulls off his shirt and uses it to wipe the dried flecks of blood from his face and neck, then walks over to the bucket in the corner and dips his hands into the only-slightly-brown water, which he uses to scrub his face clean. As clean as he can get anyway.

Sitting down on the bed with a creak, he begins to unlace his boots.  _Brett’s going to be fine_. He kicks them off with two loud thumps, shimmies out of his jeans, and crawls up towards the pillows.  _You shouldn’t care either way_.

Liam curls up underneath the covers and rests his head on the pillow he knows belongs to Garrett and tries to steady his heartbeat.  _Just stick with the plan. Listen to Garrett, find Peter, and don’t think._

It’s a mantra he adopted almost a year ago, when he’d left what family he had behind to follow his best friends across the country to find a psychopathic drug dealer.

But Garrett is convinced that Peter knows how to cure the virus and help them survive, and Liam has loved ones back in Beacon Hills who need a cure.

What Garrett never has an explanation for is why Peter came to Boston in the first place. Why he freaked out when the outbreak began, gathered all the kids that used to deal drugs for him and gave them a choice.  _“Follow me to Boston, to the cure, or stay here and die with your families. Turn into one of those things and get used to the taste of human flesh.”_

_“Why can’t we bring our families too?” Liam had been the idiot to ask._

_Peter just stared at him, accusingly. “You disappoint me, Liam. You’d risk all of our lives to try and save people who don’t even care about you. People who call your real family, all of us, deviants?”_

_“He didn’t mean it.” Garrett intervened, trying to save Liam. “He’s just scared.”_

_Peter shook his head. “I thought you were smarter, Garrett. Smart enough to know when to leave the weak behind.” He turned and gestured for the other kids to follow him. “You two won’t be coming with us. Not to Boston, not to the cure. Not until you prove to me that you aren’t stupid,” He looked at Garrett, then turned to Liam, “or weak.”_

_Peter’s disappointed stare only bit harder when Violet stayed behind, holding Garrett’s hand and whispering comforting words in his ear. Liam didn’t have anyone to do that. He was alone._

_That night, the blame in Garrett’s eyes had almost killed him. But Garrett didn’t abandon him. He convinced him to be stronger, to go with him and chase after Peter to Boston, and to survive._

He can’t let Garrett down now, not after everything that he’s done for him. He owes him his unquestioning loyalty. Brett is an outsider and Liam needs to stop worrying about him.

Yet the last thoughts that flitted through his head before sleep took him were of the outrageously tall guy who saved him, macheted a zombie to the face, and walked him home.


	2. Strange Connections

**Brett’s POV**

Brett keeps his eyes shut.

He’s been awake for a few minutes now, trying to stifle any pained sounds he might make and get a feel for his surroundings without letting anyone know that he’s conscious.

So far what he can tell isn’t much. His hands and feet are bound, way too tightly for him to be able to get loose – not that it’s stopping him from trying to discreetly undo them. The right side of his head and one of his knees killed, – like he’d been hit with a bat - but he can bend the knee a little so it isn’t broken.

He can hear voices. Only two so far, but that doesn’t inspire much confidence. He’s bound and alone, with no one coming to help him.

He’s in the middle of desperately hoping that Liam hadn’t fooled him and isn’t working with the people inside of Fenway, when a voice startled him.

“He’s awake.” It’s the woman’s. “He’s pretending not to be though.”

“You could tell?” Brett’s eyes crack open and he grins. “I thought I was a better actor than that.”

“He’s funny.” The girl smiles back at him. She’s pretty. Dark hair, dark skin, dark eyes. Her mouth is curved in amusement and her large, expressive eyes don’t look threatening. “Cute too.”

“I’m sure.” A guy steps into Brett’s field of vision. He’s blond and looks pretty small, but definitely built sturdier than Brett. The proud tilt to his chin and the way he carries himself let Brett know he’s a complete douchebag before he even says his third word.

“Looks like he’s dying to me. That is,” He bends down in front of Brett and claps his hands together, smirking arrogantly, “Unless he tells us what we want to know.”

“The Promised Land is about fifty miles east. Keep going when you hit the harbor.”

“My girl, Violet, might think your funny.” The guy tilts his head to the side. “But I don’t. I think you’re going to die, unless you tell me where to find Peter Hale.”

_Fucking hell._

“See, that look right there,” He laughs callously, “That tells me you know.”

“Sounds like a strippers name is all.” Brett tries to cover himself. If this guy’s looking for a Hale, then that can’t mean anything good for him.  _Maybe it’s meant to be_.

“Liam told us everything. You were a med student at Boston University, you lived in that factory, you’re originally from Cali, like us,” He gestured to the girl, Violet, “You’re afraid of some guys holding up inside Fenway Park, and you actually believed that he wasn’t going to turn on you.”

He should’ve known. Not that he ever actually trusted the kid, sure he was pretty likeable – the way he blushed at everything Brett said – and sure he did get Brett to let his guard down enough for this asshole to get the jump on him, but that doesn’t mean he trusted Liam.

_Fuck._

“Aww, this guy actually bought into Li’s puppy act. Told you he was good for something.”

“Garrett . . .” The girl’s voice carries a warning.

“You’re right.” Garrett stands up and backs away. “Shouldn’t make him feel too bad, Liam can be pretty convincing.”

Finally, Brett makes some progress with his bindings. He hides his success with an angry glare, but he’d managed to get some slack on the ropes binding his wrists. He’s been discreetly scanning the room while Garrett was ranting, but there isn’t anything that could be of any use within arm’s reach. His weapons are across the room on a counter.

Fuck if he’s going to let this dick keep his pistol. It isn’t anything special, just an M1911 he’d lifted from a firearms shop, but he almost died getting it. Sentimental value and all that.

“Tell you what. Why don’t you tell us whatever you know about Peter and we let you go, mostly unharmed.”

“That’d be a great deal, if I had any idea what you’re talking about.”

“What’s going on?” A new voice. Familiar.  _Liam_.

“College woke up. He’s just about to tell us where to find Peter.” Garrett smiles sweetly, over Brett’s head.

“He knows?” Liam steps into his vision. “What?” His eyes are staring into Brett’s, confusion and accusation mixed into one.

“I don’t know shit.” Brett growls at the two of them. “Let me go or kill me, but I don’t know what you want.”

“We’re not killing him.” Liam looks to Garrett.

Garrett snatches him by the elbow and hauls him out of Brett’s sight. “I need to talk to you in the other room. Now.”

The two vanish behind the click of a door, their voices replaced by a muffled argument that Brett can’t piece together.

Violet rolls her eyes. “Those two are always fighting like that. Personally I think they’re in love, but unfortunately Garrett’s a one woman kind of guy. He doesn’t like to share.” She tilts her chin and squints her eyes. “What about you? One woman, two? Maybe a guy?”

Brett chuckles. This girl is definitely one of the worst bitches he’s ever met, he can already tell that much, but he can’t help but like her a bit. Just a bit.

“It’s the apocalypse.” He gives his best attempt at a shrug, while lying on his side. “Anything goes. Cut me loose and we can see where it ends up. Maybe I can convince the two of them to share.”

She smiles at him wickedly. “I wish I could, really do. Maybe later on, but first we need to know about Peter.”

“I seriously have no idea who you’re talking about.” Brett keeps his face honest, while lying and hiding the fact that he’s just gotten enough slack to slip one of his wrists out of the rope. His hands are free. Now all he needs is to get Violet out of the room long enough for him to untie his feet and grab his gun.

“I can tell you’re lying.” It’s not an accusation, just a statement. “I’m good at it. It’s helped keep the three of us alive in some touchy situations too.”

“Three of you, huh?” Brett frowns, calculatingly. “Good to know.” Not like it’s something he didn’t already know, but if he can make her think she just let something important slip, he might be able to get her off guard and manipulate her out of the room.

“Here.” She says, irritably. “The three of us here. The rest of our group is a few blocks away.”

“Right.” Brett nods. “I bet they’re on their way here too.”

“Does it matter?” She became petulant. “You’re tied up, it’s not like you’re in any position to do anything.”

“True. Though my offer still stands if you wanna free me.”

“Cute.” She stands up, “I think I might just have gotten on board with killing you.” Then she struts out of sight and into the other room, slamming the door behind her, but not hard enough to heal her pride – Brett assumes.

_Perfect_.

He’s immediately upright and working on the knots around his ankles. It’s tight and he’s trying to be as quiet as possible, but the increasing volume of the argument in the next room lets him know that he still has time.

He feels the ropes beginning to loosen, but he still can’t undo the knot. Whoever tied him up definitely knew what they were doing. His money’s on the girl.

And on a continuing streak of good luck he manages to pull the rope loose and free his legs.

He’s on his feet as quickly as possible, a little too quickly actually. His head is all fogged up and his knee hurts like a bitch.

The room spins and he has to catch himself on an end table, knocking a fancy ceramic lamp off with a crash.

Instinctually, he wants to shut his eyes at the sound of it smashing apart, but he knows that he’s just lost whatever time their arguing had bought him, so instead he lunges forward and succeeds in getting ahold of his gun – just as the door opens.

He collapses to the ground, in such a rush to grab the gun that he slams into the counter. Yet he’s still able to raise the weapon up in his right hand.

“Don’t move!” He shouts, trying to focus his blurred vision on the doorway.

It takes a few seconds, but eventually he sees that it’s Liam standing out in front, with Garrett and Violet looking over each of his shoulders.

“I loved that lamp.” Violet complains. “Added color to the place.”

“Shut up.” Liam barks and holds his hands out in the same way Brett had done the day before.

“Stay still.” Brett says, trying to ignore the throbbing in his head and a sudden bought of nausea.

“Just go.” Liam speaks softly to Brett, but he seems closed off. Not the same boy he’d met before. Garrett was right. “You can leave.”

“Not until he tells us where to find Peter, he can’t.” Garrett chimes in from behind, pressing Liam out of the way.

“He has a gun.” Liam turns to his friend and the two share a meaningful look that Brett can’t place.

“That is true.” Brett does his best for a confident smirk, trying hard now not to show how much he’s hurting.

Garrett’s head snaps to him and their eyes meet in a challenge. The two stare each other down, Garrett standing with his chest puffed out and a Liam sized shield in front of him and Brett leaning back against the wall, trying to look strong and holding up his pistol.

“Put ‘em away, boys.” Violet speaks, but doesn’t make any attempt to put herself in the front. She does place a hand on the curve of Liam’s neck though. “We just want to know about our friend, that’s all and then you can go. We were never going to hurt you in the first place,” She gives a half-smile, “It was just a negotiating technique.”

“I wanted to hurt him.” Garrett arrogantly sneers.

“Like our little Liam here would have let that happen.” She strokes Liam’s neck. “He thinks you’re cute.”

Brett watches the anger flash in Liam’s eyes. There’s tension in this little group of three. It’s easy enough to figure out the cracks; Garrett and Violet are a couple and Liam feels left out. By the way they were talking right now, it sounds like they constantly mock him too.

“If that’s the case,” Brett looks into Liam’s eyes, giving him a warning. “He can step out of the way, while I figure out what to do with you two.”

Liam unexpectedly pushes his body in front again, trying to stand as tall as he could in front of Garrett. “You’re not going to hurt them.”

_Fucking, kid_. Brett isn’t planning to hurt anyone, he just wants to get the fuck out of here. Maybe rob them – just a little.

“The three of you listen and I won’t have to.” Brett’s still biding his time. He isn’t sure how steady he’ll be on his feet.

“Just tell us what you want.” Liam pleads, looking like a sad puppy.  _Damn, if that doesn’t make it harder to negotiate with him._

“My gear, some food and water for the road.” Brett jerks the gun at Liam. “Fill up a bag. Other two stay put.”

“Like hell,” Garrett tries to rush forward, but Liam holds him back. “We don’t even have enough food for ourselves!” Liam’s barely able to stop him, but Brett’s thankful he does. He is almost certain he can’t take him in his current state and he really doesn’t want to shoot anyone.

“He’s right.” Liam says. “We really don’t have much. You know the area better than any of us. Just go and we’ll call it even.”

“Even?” Brett laughs, dryly. “I saved your ass, got you back here in one piece, then got bashed over the head and kidnapped and you think me leaving is even?”

“Good point.” Liam deadpans.

“Whatever.” Brett sighs. He doesn’t need anything from them anyway, besides to buy more time until he feels he can properly stand. Unfortunately, it looks like it’s now or never.

He lurches to his feet, slowly, but trying to make it look like he’s just sore and tired, not barely clinging to consciousness. Then his luck runs out and he slips – just a bit, but it’s more than enough.

The pistol slides just out of his grasp on the counter and there’s a cry from the other side of the room. He doesn’t turn to look, but suddenly Garrett’s on top of him, shoving his face to the ground and grabbing the gun off the counter.

He tries to push the smaller boy off of him, but Garrett’s all muscle and Brett is pretty sure he might have a concussion.

Then he feels cool metal brush up against his lips and everything freezes. Garrett’s elbow presses into his throat and the kid gives him a taunting look.

“Should’ve just told us what we wanted . . . whatever, we can figure it out on our own.”

“Liam, stop!” Violet shrieks right before there’s a crash from across the room, but all Brett can see is Garrett’s hand and the gun pressed to his lips.

“Get off of him!” Liam’s voice hits them at the same time as his body crashes into his friend, like a tiny wrecking ball.

The pair tumble off of Brett and he lets out a relieved breath. He hasn’t been that close to dying in a while and it definitely isn’t something he wants to get used to.

That being said, there’s still a gun being fought over and he isn’t certain he can trust either of the people trying to get it.

Liam’s arms are wrapped around Garrett’s chest and neck, desperately grasping at the blond boy’s hands and trying to stop him from aiming the gun.

“Liam!” Garrett thunders, while Brett tries to pick himself off the ground. “You little bitch! Stop!”

“Fuck you!” Brett can see the runt beginning to get the advantage. He’s a little smaller than Garrett and not as well muscled, – that Brett can see anyway – but he has the advantage of being behind his friend.

Liam’s hands are pulling the gun away from Brett and upwards, aiming it at himself and Garrett.

“What the fuck are you doing?!”

“Don’t shoot!” Liam yells. “Unless you wanna kill me!”

Brett stumbles to his feet. He scans the room for something to defend himself with – and possibly use to help Liam. His machete’s lying on the counter, but what the hell’s he going to do with that? He’s never killed a  _living_  person before and a blade doesn’t have any intimidation factor when it’s faced with a gun.

He sees Violet standing in the doorway. She’s preoccupied with the fight and not paying any attention to him.

_No time to think._

He rushes her and she screams. He doesn’t want to hurt her, but if he can get ahold of her he can use her as a negotiating chip.

“Violet!” Garrett elbows Liam in the gut and spins on Brett with the gun.

Fuck. He doesn’t quite have a firm hold on her yet and unless Garrett has the worst aim in the world, he’ll be able to take him down with a single shot.

“Stop!” Liam roars.

A shot rings out.

Brett’s eyes screw shut and he waits for the pain. But it never comes.

Opening his eyes slowly, he sees Liam and Garrett kneeling on the floor. Both have their hands wrapped around the pistol and both are panting heavily, staring right past Brett.

He turns his head.

Violet still stands in the doorway, now clasping her abdomen – just above her hip – where darkness seeps out and drenches the white of her shirt.

“Garrett.” Her voice is a whisper as blood spills from between her fingers and she crumples to the floor.

“Violet!” Garrett screams again, swinging sharply and bashing Liam in the face with the pistol. He turns to face Brett, but this time the taller boy is faster.

He tackles Garrett, wrapping his arms around his middle and slamming him back against the counter. The gun dislodges from his hand and the pair hit the ground – hard. There’s a loud thump that Brett assumes is Garrett’s head.  _Karma_.

Garrett doesn’t fight back after that, just lying limply beneath Brett. He can feel him breathing, but he’s out for the time being.

Turning to stand he sees Liam, still on the ground from being hit by his friend.

“Don’t go.” He pleads, seeing Brett eye the door. “Please. I . . . I shot her . . . please, please you have to help her.”

Brett stares down at him, trying to ignore those begging blue eyes. He looks like a kicked puppy.  _Poor fucking kid_.  _Shouldn’t have gotten involved in the first place._

_Fuck_.

Brett sighs, wiping at his face and turning to look at Violet. She’s bleeding badly, he needs to move quickly.

“Get me painkillers.” He instructs. “Whatever bandages you have, tweezers if you have ‘em, antiseptic, Iodine would be great, but Hydrogen Peroxide will work. And a cloth!”

_No time to waste_. He rushes to Violet’s side, trying to still his spinning head. “And tie him up! I don’t want him coming at me while I’m trying to save his girl.” He mutters as he presses two fingers to the side of her neck. Slow, but not dangerous just yet.

“Hey.” He snaps his fingers a few times in front of her eyes, “Hey, Violet, you with me?” Her eyelids flutter a bit and she lets out a pained whimper. He tilts her a bit on her side and pushes her shirt up.

_No exit wound_.

“A little faster!” He hollers over his shoulder, moving Violet’s hands away from the injury, which is pumping out blood at a steady rate. He grabs at the thin fabric of her shirt and tears, ripping it in half and pushing it away from her left side.

“Here!” Liam’s at his side, shoving the collected items at him. _Kid’s quick._

“Hold up.” Brett reaches a bloody hand out and takes the bottle of Tylenol first. He unscrews the lid and tilts the bottle back, swallowing some pills – _counting is for people who aren’t trying to operate with a concussion_. “Give me these,” He grabs the tweezers and Peroxide, while passing back the pills, “Put the bandages and cloth down and go tie him up.”

Liam looks uncertain, shaky, and more than freaked out – but one look at the blood coming from his friend’s abdomen and he’s following orders again.

“C’mon, stay with me.” Brett talks lowly, not so much trying to comfort Violet as himself. He’s never actually operated on someone before, and especially not in a grimy apartment during a zombie apocalypse.  _She’s probably going to die_.

Dousing his hands in the antiseptic first, he pours some onto the cloth and brings it up to the entrance wound, wiping away the blood. Her body twitches and her face screws up in pain. That’s good,  _still responsive to pain_.

Once he has the wound moderately clean, he has to move.  _Fuck, I was supposed to be an M.D., not a battlefield medic_.

Using the tweezers, he examines how deep the bullet is and if it’s hit anything important. It doesn’t look like anything major was hit, surprisingly. The bullet had entered diagonally, narrowly missing part of her small intestine. If it’d been hit then there wouldn’t have been much Brett could do, infection would be almost guaranteed and he doubts these kids have hardcore antibiotics around.

Still it takes him a few tries to grab onto the shell.  _Fucking, fuck, Brett. Calm down, steady hands, just a simple procedure_. It isn’t though, he’s never done this and has no idea if she’ll live.

His breath comes in a rush when he finally manages to pull the metal chunk free of her skin.

“Is she gonna be okay?” Liam’s voice right over his shoulder startles him and he drops the tweezers to the floor.

“Christ!” He wipes at the sweat on his forehead with his sleeve. The bullet is out, rolling along the ground and leaving a thin trail of Violet’s blood. “Don’t do that!”

“Sorry.” Liam backs up a bit. “It’s out.”

“It is.” Brett nods, grabbing at the cloth again to clean up the blood that is pooling on her stomach. “Pour some of that,” he points to the Peroxide, “on the bandage and hand it to me.”

As he’s pulling the cloth away, Liam’s already on his knees beside him, pressing the bandage into his hands. Brett absentmindedly wraps one hand around Liam’s wrist to steady him for a minute, while he dries the area around Violet’s wound.

Then he takes the bandage and presses it onto her, smoothing down the adhesive edges.

“Is she gonna be okay?” Liam’s voice is weak.

Brett finally takes a moment to look at him. He’s just a kid, not even old enough to drive before the biters came. Brett wonders if he’s ever gotten the chance since then.

That doesn’t matter right now. He looks terrified, shaking and pale; there’s a smear of blood around his nose, where Garrett had hit him with the pistol. That must’ve hurt. He isn’t crying though, – not that Brett would really blame him all that much if he was – but he does look on the verge of it.

He notices that the biter blood has been washed off of him and he’s changed clothes, although they’re still dirty.

“I don’t know.” He looks down at his hands, shiny and slick with blood. “I think so, maybe.”

Liam doesn’t offer much of a response, just looking at him with uncertainty. “Thank you.”

Brett looks down at Violet, lying on the floor, hair pooled around her head and a clean bandage laid out against her stomach. Her breathing’s a little fast, but there isn’t much he can do about that.

“Water?” He asks, his voice cracking. He’s been knocked out a good portion of the day and his water bottle ran out while he was trailing Liam the day before.

“Huh? Oh . . . yeah, sure, hang on.” The kid rushes away and returns a moment later, handing Brett a bottle of water.

“Thanks.” He cracks the cap off and let it fall to the ground as he chugs half the bottle greedily, wiping his mouth with his sleeve.

“What’re you gonna do?” Liam asks, standing above Brett.

He eyes Garrett’s body in the corner. Liam did as told and tied him up . . . he wouldn’t have done that if he doesn’t trust Brett at least a little bit.

“You alright?” Brett ignores his question.

Liam hesitates and looks at Brett like he’s a moron. “I’m fine. I wasn’t the one who got shot.”

“I mean, are you okay?” He rephrases. “Like are you going to be fine or do I need to walk you to the nearest mental hospital?”

It takes a moment, but Liam does laugh at that. “No.” He shakes his head. “Thanks, I’ll be fine.”

“Want me to go?” Brett asks, neutrally. He knows he should’ve took off before – maybe even before he helped the girl – but he’s half-hoping Liam will want to go with him. He hasn’t encountered another non-hostile person in almost a year. Not since his group was forced to flee from the campus chapel and everyone got split up.

“No.” Liam’s response comes quickly and he looks panicked after he’s spoken. “I mean-”

Brett holds up a hand. “You want me to make sure your friend’s okay. I got it. Just promise to keep that one on a leash.” He jerks his chin at Garrett. “And help me get her up onto the couch.”

The two of them move Violet up onto the couch as gently as possible, but she squirms a bit and looks like she’s in pain.

Liam gets those sad puppy dog eyes again.

“It’s fine.” Brett reassures him. “It’s good that she’s still responsive. Give her some Tylenol and here,” He hands over his bottle of water.

“He’s just mad.” Liam says, when he’s finished giving Violet the pills and water.

It takes Brett a second to realize he means, Garrett. He nods.  _Seems like he’s the kind of guy who’s always mad_ , but he doesn’t say that.

“Why do you all want to find that guy – Peter? – so bad anyway?” He does his best to keep his voice calm. “He family?”

“No.” Liam shakes his head, slowly.  _Good, not Hales_. “Well, kinda.”

_Fuck_.

“He took care of us back home.” Liam settles. “He’s not a good guy . . . I shouldn’t have said that.”

“It’s cool,” Brett assures him with smile, “I don’t have anyone to blab to. Psycho’s tied up and she’s out cold.”

“Do you think she’ll live?” Liam asks again.

“I can’t tell you that, kid.” Brett leans down and reaches his hands out to grab Liam’s shoulders, slowly, making sure he has permission before he touches him. He doesn’t move away, so Brett takes that as an okay sign. “I can’t stay here much longer. He’s not gonna be happy to see me when he wakes up.”

“Me either.” Liam’s voice cracks. “It’s my fault she got shot.”

Brett doesn’t argue with him. If he hadn’t of gotten involved, then Violet would almost certainly be fine. Instead he says, “You saved my life.”

Liam smiles a little bit. Looking embarrassed and nervous, but not upset. “Guess we’re even.”

“Guess so.” His words fall on empty air. “How about this,” He releases the smaller boy’s shoulders and steps back. “I’ll stay here until she’s okay and you’re sure he’s not going to disown you and you make sure he doesn’t murder me while I’m doing that.”

“Deal.” Liam says, relief plain on his face.

Brett went back to tending to Violet, before Liam spoke again. “Your head.”

Brett brings his hand to the back of his head and tenses at a jolt of pain.

“Nothing bad.” He smiles. “But it’d be cool if you’d rinse that cloth out and bring it over to me.”

“Sure.” Liam makes quick work of it too. Less than a minute later and he’s gently scrubbing at the back of his hair, removing dried blood and a gross amount of sweat.

“Need a shower.” He jokes.

“Yeah right.” Liam shakes his head and looks like he doesn’t quite know what to do with his body.

“Plenty of places in Boston to get clean.” Brett nods at Liam’s disbelieving look. “Streams, ponds, a few places even have running water.” He doesn’t elaborate on which few places those were, but he can’t tell this kid everything he knows. “I would advise against the Charles River, unless you want to be trapped by herds of biters.”

“Biters.” Liam repeats, trying the word out.

“What do you call ‘em?”

“Corpses.” Liam smirks. “Garrett’s creative.”

“He’s something alright.” Brett slumps to the ground in front of the couch. A moment later Liam slides down next to him.

“Why’d you save me?” He asks, completely out of the blue – in what Brett is slowly realizing, if typical Liam fashion. “I mean, yesterday on the roof. You saved me.”

“We’ve been over this.”

“Most people wouldn’t do that for someone they just met.” Liam doesn’t seem upset, but he’s hard to read when he’s not blushing.

“I had a friend.” Brett says, carefully, making sure his voice supports each word as it comes out. “Someone I cared a lot about . . . she died almost nine months ago.”  _It’d only been a few months after the outbreak began. Her screams still haunt Brett every time he shuts his eyes for too long or things get too quiet_. “One came up right behind her, latched onto her neck and ripped back.” His throat catches, but no tears come. He isn’t so sure he has many left. “I didn’t do anything to help her. Just ran . . . I promised myself I’d never lose someone like that again.”

“I’m sorry.” Liam still seems off, “But . . . you don’t know me. Why risk yourself for me?”

Brett shakes his head. “I dunno, guess the situation just reminded me of it. Needed to step up, y’know?”

“I guess.” He looks at Brett like he wants to say something, but nothing else comes.

“It’s okay. We’ve all lost people, I’m not the only one.” Brett’s lips tilt downwards. “Losing someone doesn’t deserve sympathy, not anymore. Just make sure your friend doesn’t kill me and we’re smooth.”

“I’ll do my best.” Liam offers a tight smile.

“Hold you to it.” He bumps Liam’s knee with his own.

The kid’s strange, that’s for sure. Uncertain in almost everything he does, but Brett feels some sort of responsibility to him. He supposes it’s because he’s never actually saved anyone’s life before. Liam was the first person he’d actually helped keep alive . . . he doesn’t want to lose that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so here's chapter two. I think it's a little clunky, but It's mostly setting the scene, I'm excited to get more into the relationship developing between the boys and how Garrett, Violet, and eventually some others will play into that.


	3. Restrain the Beast, Let Loose the Pup

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick heads-up! There is a homophobic slur in this chapter. It's almost used by Garrett and then Liam thinks it internally; just so that no ones surprised by it.

**Brett’s POV**

“I’ll kill you if she’s hurt.”

“Well, she  _is_  hurt.” Brett shakes his head.  _Can this guy’s head get any fucking denser?_  “She got shot, but she’s doing better and she’ll live.” That he isn’t a hundred percent on, but Violet does seem to be doing better. Liam’s been giving her water and he gave her a second dose of Tylenol after a couple of hours passed.

“Then I’ll just kill you for the fun of it.” Jeez, the guy sure is bold even when tied up and powerless. “Liam!” He tries to wriggle against his binds again as Liam exits the bedroom. “You need to listen to me!”

Liam doesn’t look at him, instead sitting down next to Brett on the couch.

They’d moved Violet into the bedroom about an hour ago; Brett figuring she’d be more comfortable if she woke up.

“I can leave if you really want.” Brett offers. “But if she gets worse, you’ll need me.”

“We don’t need anything from you.” He spits. “Li, untie me and we’ll show this prick not to mess with us.”

“I’m not doing that.” Liam says – and kind of shocks Brett a bit to be honest. He hasn’t said much to Garrett in the time he’s been awake and he hasn’t once directly contradicted him.

“Li-”

“Stop.” Brett eyes Liam, he’s looked increasingly agitated since Garrett first woke up.

“Violet’s hurt because of him, Liam!” Garrett shouts.

“He didn’t shoot her, I did!” Liam snaps back.

_Woah. Heavy shit_.

Liam’s face is red and his hands are shaking, sending little tremors out to the rest of his body. Brett wants to do something to help him, but he can’t think of anything. Normally he’d reach out, put a hand on him or something, but Liam’s iffy when it comes to being touched.

“You did.” Garrett’s quiet; Brett can’t place the look on his face, but these two definitely have a lot of shit to work out. Maybe Violet’s right about them being in love.

“I’m sorry.” Liam’s words don’t carry very far, but it looks like Garrett hears him.

He can almost hear the tears in Liam’s voice and knows he can’t just sit here and do nothing, so – against his better judgement – he reaches out to squeeze Liam’s shoulder supportively.

He immediately regrets it when the smaller boy shrugs away.

_You knew that would happen_.

“He’s not one of us, Li.” Garrett speaks up. “He’s the reason she’s hurt, not you. It wouldn’t have happened if we’d just killed him.”

“I’ve never killed anyone.” Liam breathes, not looking at either of them.

Brett wishes he knew what to say, but he really doesn’t. This feels like a conversation he shouldn’t even be a part of, like something private.

“But I have! And I only did it for you.” Garrett makes sure to slip a bragging glance at Brett. “To protect you and Violet, like I’ve always done.”

“That doesn’t mean we need to have you kill everyone we ever come across.”

“If it’s to protect you, I will.”

“He’s not going to hurt me!” Liam waves his hand at Brett.

“We don’t know th-”

“I saved his life.” Brett seizes the opportunity. “I got him back to you safely. If I’d wanted to hurt him or any of you, I could have. I’ve had dozens of chances. I haven’t. I get that you want to find your friend and all, but I really don’t know anything about him. If he was in Boston, he probably wasn’t as lucky as me. There aren’t many people left.”

“He’s right, Garrett. Peter’s probably dead.” Liam says and all Brett can think is –  _hopefully_.

His life will be a lot easier as long as there aren’t any Hales in Boston. Yet he knows that Peter Hale _was_ on his way to Boston after the outbreak and if these kids are here looking for him . . .  _maybe he got eaten._

“Really Liam?” Garrett sits up as tall as he can in his bindings. “All it took was a pretty face and a few hours to turn you against us? You know Peter’s not dead, you know he’s here, and you know he’s waiting for us. You’re just being a little bitch and trying to back out. Again.”

“I’m not.” Liam’s voice is tense, but he looks more controlled now.

“You are and you know how bad you are at making decisions on your own. Before you went out you were talking about how you couldn’t wait to find Peter soon, then you run into College, he bats his eyes at you, and you just wanna give up and go home?”

“Garrett.”

“No, Li, for Christ’s sake!” Brett watches as Garrett’s face turns malicious. He’d been angry before, but the look he’s giving Liam now almost makes Brett flinch. “You’re not keeping any type of secrets when you go throwing yourself at any guy who talks to you.”

“Garrett.”

_Liam’s gay_ , Brett realizes . . . and Garrett’s a manipulative asshole.  _This isn’t how friends treat each other_. But he understands the taunts Garrett’s been throwing Liam’s way a little bit better now – it’s a way to keep him pliant and obedient.

“You know, you used to hide it better, after you got your ass beat at school  _and_  at home. But then zombies come and you think it’s time to start acting like a little fucking fa-”

“Hey!” Brett interrupts. He doesn’t know Liam all that well, but if Garrett doesn’t shut up in the next few seconds he’s going to untie him just so that he can kick his ass.  _No one deserves to be talked to that way_. “Back on topic please.”

Garrett’s eyes twinkle at the way Liam’s body’s gone completely still – his head hanging low and staring intently at his shoes.

“I couldn’t care less about all of your personal garbage.” He tries not to make it sound so harsh, but he’s caught in the middle of dismissing what Garrett said about Liam and trying to intimidate the blond douchebag. He wishes he could give the kid another pat on the shoulder or  _something_ , just to let him know that he doesn’t think any less of him. He knows all too well the way Garrett’s making him feel. “Your girlfriend could still die and if you don’t calm down, I’ll leave and her death will be on you.”

That appears to have some sort of impact on him and Brett can tell that – despite all his bluster and stupidity – he does care about Violet, a lot. Definitely more than he cares about Liam.  _Poor kid_.

“You said she’d live.”

“I think she will, but that’s not certain. Especially if she doesn’t have anyone who knows what they’re doing around.”

“Let’s say I don’t kill you,” Garrett starts, still not letting up his little alpha routine, “Are you going to untie me?”

“Yes.” Brett doesn’t acknowledge the confused look Liam’s giving him. Trust needs to start somewhere and he needs to find out what these kids know about Peter Hale. “I’m not letting you anywhere near a gun, that’s for sure. I’ll let him untie you though – he’s been wanting to for a while now, but I haven’t let him,” He lies deftly. Part of the deal is protecting Liam after he leaves. “And we can talk, I’ll tell you what I know about the city – some of it’s gotta be useful in your search – while I watch her condition, then I leave and we all go on our merry ways.”

Garrett stares at him, searching for any sign that he’s up to something.

“Deal.” He nods. “But if she dies all bets are off. I’ll kill you.”

“Sounds good.” Brett smirks, hiding how uncertain he actually is about her condition. “Go ahead,” He turns to Liam, warning with his eyes to obey if he wants back in Garrett’s good graces, “He’s your friend.”

Liam looks nervous, but he walks over to Garrett anyway. Brett can’t hear what the two of them are whispering, but he’s not all that concerned. He has both the guns and his machete. Liam still has his knife, but Brett’s beginning to trust him.  _Be careful, last time you let your guard down with him you got knocked out._

Garrett’s free a few seconds later, rubbing at his wrists and giving Liam a glare. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” Then Liam’s back on the couch next to him, while Garrett gets to his feet.

“Alright. So let’s get down to business.”

* * *

**Liam’s POV**

“Be right back.” Brett says, going to check on Violet in the other room for the hundredth time. He seems really attentive to her – probably because Garrett will try to kill him if anything goes wrong.

“I’m sorry.” Garrett mumbles, once he’s out of the room.

“Fuck off.” Liam knows he’s scowling. He doesn’t care.

“Can you really be mad at me, Li? You sided with him. You fought with me over a gun.” His face is suddenly reasonable, looking at Liam with concern and even kindness. “Either of us could have gotten hurt.”

“Violet did get hurt.” He whispers.

_Your fault. If she dies, you’ll be the one who killed her._

“I know, Li.” There are tears in his eyes, but Liam watches as he wipes them away with a thumb. “I need you to be with me, now especially. If I lose her . . .” His voice catches and he doesn’t continue.  _He can’t. Because you shot the girl he loves._

“I’m sorry.” Liam wants to go to him: hold him, make him okay, but he doesn’t. It’s his fault that they’re in this situation. Garrett’s right about Brett. Liam did let his guard down a lot quicker than he’d have done if Brett was a girl – or older – or uglier. Garrett didn’t always have to be such a dick about it, but Liam doesn’t even really know Brett and he’s defending him – he  _wants_  to know him, he realizes.

“It’s okay.” Garrett smiles, sadly. “She’ll be alright. I’m sorry for bringing up the  _thing_. If you want I’ll make sure he keeps his mouth shut about it.”

_The thing. That’s what you always call it when you’re being nice. You can’t say gay, but you have no problem with fag._

Liam shakes his head. “Who’s he gonna tell? There’s no more bullies.”

Garrett shrugs and gives Liam that look that always makes him want to melt.  _Please stop doing this to me._ “I’ve always protected you Li, just ‘cause you’ve actually got some muscles now doesn’t mean that’s gonna stop.”

He smiles at his friend. Garrett’s hard to handle, but it’s not always his fault. He never had a good home, his family was even worse than Liam’s and Peter was the first one to ever actually look out for him – besides himself and Violet. All he wants is to belong somewhere.

Brett’s back in the room a moment later and Liam tries to remember where they left off.

Brett had asked some questions about Peter – which they’d answered honestly – to help him try and remember if he’d seen or heard anything about him. They told most of their story; Peter was a fairly major-league drug dealer, having connections all over the country, and the three of them used to deal for him at Beacon Hills High. Liam even brought up that he’d said he knew of a cure – which earned him an irritated glance from Garrett, but he didn’t vocally object.

They’d seemed to be getting along a little bit better. Garrett didn’t even object when Liam shared some of their food with Brett – just canned beans, but everyone needs to eat.

In return, Brett told them a huge amount of information about the city, including safe places to find food and water, the usual patrol routes of the people in Fenway Park, places to avoid because of corpses or hostile survivors, and the patterns of migration the zombies followed, which Liam still thinks is ridiculous. He figured they just wandered aimlessly, but Brett’s adamant that they have hunting patterns.  _“Like any other animal.” He’d said matter-of-factly._

“Anything else?” Garrett asks, looking at Brett with less hostility than before, as they finish eating.

“Not much.” Brett chews at his lip, and  _fuck, Liam, you need to get ahold of yourself_. “I’ve got a few safe places around the city, I’m not gonna tell you about them right now, but we’ll see how the week goes. You’ve lived this long so you know not to go out at night.”

_Yeah_. Liam thinks to himself. They’d made that mistake once and Garrett had almost lost his life. The corpses aren’t held back by lack of sight like humans and even though they can’t move very fast it’s easy to get yourself surrounded when you can’t see.

“I’ll keep my ear to the ground for that guy, but I really don’t think you’ll find him here. The city’s not the safest place to be. He might have holed up with some drug lord buddies in Mexico.” Brett’s joke falls flat.

“We’ll take our chances.” Garrett surprises Liam by keeping his cool at what he’d normally see as an insult.

“Suit yourself.”

“It’s late.” Liam says, looking out one of the windows. They’ve been talking for a while, hours it must be by now.

“Tired?” Brett asks him first, just as Garrett opens his mouth.

“Kind of.” Liam’s betrayed by a yawn that rattles his whole body.

“I’m beat too.” Garrett stands up and eyes the two of them. “I’m sleeping in there with Violet, You two can make do out here?”

“We’ll be alright.” Brett says, before Liam can object. The couch is way too small for them, especially with how much of Brett there is. Liam really doesn’t want to sleep on the floor. He’d been so happy when they first found the apartment and it had a couch, with  _actual_  cushions, that he could  _actually_  sleep on.  _Whatever_.

“Tomorrow I’m going out.” Garrett stops at the bedroom door. “We’re low on everything. Bottled water and canned foods getting harder to find every day. And I wanna see what types of drugs I can find, just in case.”

Brett nods. “I’ll go with you, show you how to find it all safely.”

Liam doesn’t think that’s a good idea, but he keeps his mouth shut. Garrett wouldn’t kill Brett if he thought they still needed him for Violet.

“Alright. Night Liam.” Then he’s gone into the room with a soft click of the door.

“He’s being nice.” Liam says, unsure of his own words. “Be careful.”

“Nice to know you care.” Brett smiles at him.  _Fuck, he’s way too cute_.

_Especially_ when he smiles; and his eyes squint up into little lines and he shows all of his teeth. Liam’s never seen anyone smile with as much enthusiasm as him. He wants to find it weird, but he doesn’t.  _It’s hot._

“It’s not . . .” Liam trails off, he’s starting to learn not to fight back when Brett teases him. “Shut up.”

“We should hit the hay.” Brett bumps his shoulder with his own.

“Yeah.” Liam stands and crosses the room to grab his blanket from the floor and then starts to lay down on the spot where he’d picked it up from.

“I’m not taking your bed from you.” Brett narrows his eyes at Liam. “We can both fit, I’m really not that fat.”

Liam looks at him, trying not to panic.  _Hadn’t he understood what Garrett was saying earlier?_  Maybe he forgot. Maybe he was just being nice and hoping Liam would turn down the offer.

“It’s fine.” He tries to smile, but knows it comes out as more of a pained scowl. “I’ve slept worse places.”

“So have I,” Brett counters, “Doesn’t mean you gotta sleep down there tonight. Besides, that looks like the only blanket you’ve got and I get cold at night.”

“Didn’t you hear him?” Liam barks, not meaning to sound as angry as he does.

It takes a minute for the confusion in Brett’s eyes to go away, replaced with understanding. “Kid, I couldn’t give two shits where you like to stick your junk. That should be the least of your worries these days.”

Liam doesn’t answer him. He’s never expected a reaction like that, Garrett and Violet are the only people who he’s ever actually come out to and Garrett had assured him that no one else would be as accepting as them. If Garrett was wrong . . . Liam banishes the thought from his head. This is either a trick or an exception, Garrett wouldn’t make him hide it for no reason.

“Look I’m cool with this, but,” Brett lays down on the couch, somehow fitting all of himself onto it and pressing backwards, “I’ll sleep on the inside if you feel weird about it. You can put your head down there and face out.” He waits a second, smirking at Liam and wiggling his eyebrows. “That way if you wake up a little excited, I won’t lose my innocence.”

Liam can feel the .01 seconds it takes him to turn beet-red.  _What the fuck is wrong with this guy?_

He does his best to recover from his embarrassment quickly. He knows it isn’t dark enough yet for Brett not to have seen him blushing, – only 6? Maybe 7? – but maybe he’ll chalk it up to anger. Part of it  _definitely is_  anger.

“For you?” He balks openly. “You wish.”

Brett grins at him devilishly, “You’ve got me now. I’m a sucker for rejection.” Then he shakes his head and laughs a bit. “Alright, we cool? Lay down and sleep, you’re the one who’s clearly exhausted.”

He watches as Brett unclips his machete’s sheath from his belt and wedges it back beneath the cushions, holsters Garrett’s gun at his side, but keeps his own in hand.

“Not gonna hurt you.” Brett dismisses what is probably an uncomfortable look on his face. “You should know that by now; it’s just for protection. I’m willing to bet he won’t kill me while he needs me, but that doesn’t mean he won’t try to hold me at gun point.”

“Right.” Liam nods, timidly sitting on the edge of the couch. He manages to squeeze onto it with as little discomfort as possible and pulls the thin blanket over the two of them. Then he glances at his bunkmate for the night.

Brett’s shoes are kicked up on the arm of the couch, making room for the rest of his body, while Liam’s own body fits on the couch with plenty of room to spare – he realizes, jealously.

There has to be something wrong with this guy. He needs to have some sort of fault, no one can be that . . . whatever he is. He’s as tall as a fucking tree, looks like he’s a model, nice enough to save Liam without knowing him  _and_  walk him home, basically a doctor, and on top of all of that he also doesn’t care that Liam was gay and is even willing to share a couch with him.

_Gotta be a cannibal_.

“So how’d you end up dealing for a guy like that anyway?” Brett notices him staring.  _Obviously, you’re half-sitting up and looking right at him_. “You don’t seem like the drug type.”

“Rich spoiled kids who want to piss off mommy and daddy?” Liam lays on his side, pulling the blanket closer to himself, trying to ignore the strangeness of the situation.

“That’d be the type.”

“No.” Liam’s smile falters as he stares at the dingy carpet. “My-” He stops himself before he can say another word. He can’t believe he almost started talking about his family to this guy. He never talked about his family anymore. He hadn’t seen his father since the police took him away –  _your fault_  – and his mother and step-dad were killed not long after the outbreak began –  _your fault_.

“Your?” Brett goads.

“Never mind.”

“Alright, not trying to pry.” Brett sounds apologetic.

_Fuck him_.

“I’m sorry.” Liam’s voice surprises himself. _Why did you apologize you idiot?_

“For?”

_Nothing._

“I get angry sometimes and I get mad for dumb reasons.”

Brett laughs, using his knees to nudge Liam’s back. “We all get angry, kid, no sweat.”

_I have I.E.D. Sometimes I get really angry and violent and lash out at the tiniest things. I’ve been expelled from school for it and almost killed one of my best friends for trying to talk to me about it. I’m the reason my dad was the way he was . . ._

“My parents died when I was a kid.” Brett throws out, catching Liam off guard. _He’s developing a habit of doing that._

“Sorry.” He doesn’t know what else to say. He wants to stop talking now.

“Ah.” Brett makes an indifferent noise. “I was young, I barely remember them now. Me and my little sister were taken in by a nice woman; she even helped me pay for school, so that I could provide for my sister after I graduated.”

“I don’t care.” He doesn’t intend to come across as a jerk, but he just wants to sleep now.

Brett doesn’t respond and Liam thinks he’s trying to think of something harsh to hit back with, but minutes pass and he gets no reaction.

Then he hears light snoring.  _He fucking went to sleep_. Liam wants to punch him but he doesn’t know why. Well he  _does_  . . . he hasn’t been on medication since it ran out a month after the outbreak, but he shouldn’t be angry at someone for doing what he asks and leaving him alone. But he  _is_. He’s mad at this guy for leaving him alone.

_Sleep_. He tells himself.  _Sleep. Sleep. Sleep._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	4. Here's the Pride, Before the Fall

**Brett’s POV**

“Morning sunshine.” Brett murmurs, watching Liam stir from his sleep.

He definitely hasn’t been watching him for a solid ten minutes now, ever since he rolled onto his back and threw a leg across Brett’s chest, waking him up in the process. Definitely not. But if he had been, he wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about how his mouth hung slightly open, letting out tiny little snores that sound like something that should probably come from a puppy and not a teenage boy. Or the multitude of different faces he made, ranging from an irritated scowl to a small smile, changing every few minutes with a spasm.

“Huh?” Liam lifts his head and groggily wipes at the drool on his chin with the back of his hand.

“Oh that’s cute.” Brett chuckles.

“The fuck?” Liam looks grumpy. “Shit.” He quickly pulls his leg off of Brett. “I’m sorry, I-”

“No sweat, dude.” He dismisses the embarrassed look on Liam’s face. “Can’t blame you for trying to spread out. I’m pretty sure I had my knees in your back all night.”

“You did.” Liam says dryly. “How long was I like that?”

Brett shrugs, “A few minutes, but like I said, it’s really not a big deal.”

“You should’ve moved me.”

“Didn’t wanna wake you. Figured you’d probably need some rest after the past two days you’ve had . . . and  _surprisingly_ , it wasn’t so bad being between your legs.”

Liam’s ears turn pink in record time, but he does seem to lighten up a bit. “Bite me.” He lets his head fall back to the couch.

“Sure, but just remember that you asked for it.” He feels Liam laughing more than he hears it, and takes that as a good sign. He thinks the kid might be beginning to actually enjoy his company.

“Garrett’s gonna wanna go out soon.” Liam mumbles into the couch. “It’s already way later than he usually likes to go out.”

Brett lifts his head a bit to look out the window. The suns definitely over the horizon, probably has been so for a few hours now, beating down on the quiet city and waking whatever inhabitants still lived.

“You shouldn’t go with him.” Liam surprises him with that.

“I doubt he trusts me enough to leave me here with her and take you instead.” Brett points out. “And you don’t want your friend out there alone in a city he doesn’t know.”

Liam doesn’t say anything at first and Brett begins to think he’s fallen back asleep when he says, “He sent me out on my own.”

Brett doesn’t really know what to say.  _That is true_. He knows Liam’s starting to – or maybe already did – feel like he cares about Garrett a lot more than Garrett does him, but he doesn’t want to get involved in all that.

“He did.” He nods. “Think about it this way; if he hadn’t of done that then you’d have never met me and think about how sad that would be. You wouldn’t even have a couch mate to keep you warm at night.”

“Yeah, that’d be the worst.” Brett doesn’t take offense at the heavy sarcasm in Liam’s voice.

“Try to hold onto that attitude in case he does actually kill me.”

Liam falls silent again, making Brett immediately regret his words.

“He’s not gonna kill me while he needs me for Violet.”

“What if he doesn’t think he does anymore?”  _He sounds like a little kid_ , Brett thinks fondly.

“You’re starting to sound like you actually care.” Brett teases, nudging Liam’s hip.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Liam shoots back. “You’re useful to have around, makes me less of a third wheel.”

“I’m sure.”

“You ready to get up?”

“No.”

Liam gets up anyway, sliding right off the couch and stumbling over to the kitchen for a bottle of water.

Brett finds himself missing the warmth of Liam’s body next to his. The younger boy was practically scalding to the touch while he slept, radiating enough heat that Brett was sweating when he first woke up. Liam would certainly be useful during a New England winter.

“Here.” He returns a second later, tossing Brett a bottle of water.

“Thanks.” Brett sits up, making room for Liam to sit next to him.

Liam tears open a package of crackers and hands him a couple.

“They’re stale.” Brett mumbles around a mouthful, but swallows anyway. Food is food.

“Sorry this isn’t the Hamptons.”

“Do you even know where the Hamptons are?” Brett bites another cracker, trying not to get too many crumbs on the couch.

“Didn’t even know it was a real place.” Liam sounds like he’s got twelve crackers in his mouth and it wouldn’t surprise Brett if he did. The way he tore into his can of beans last night was almost scary.

The two of them combined demolish the pack of crackers in minutes and Brett feels his stomach rumble, demanding more food. That’s nothing new these days.

“Maybe you’ll find a bunch of food today and we can pig out later.” Liam doesn’t sound hopeful.

“Could happen.” Brett murmurs.  _There’s plenty of food at the loft. Wish I could bring you there, kid._  And he does - Brett realizes - wish that he could bring this angsty teenager whose life he’d saved back to the only place he’d felt safe since the outbreak.

The bedroom door opens behind them and Brett turns to look over his shoulder. Garrett doesn’t appear nearly as pissed off as the day before. Maybe all he needed was to sleep the cranky away.

“Morning lovebirds.” He looks at the two of them and his mouth tilts a bit, not a smile, but almost a smirk.

“How’s Violet?” Liam asks immediately.

“Still out.” He answers, his face falling slightly. “Got her to drink some water, though. She seems okay.”

“I’ll check on her.” Brett stands up, grabbing his machete from underneath the cushions and attaching the sheath back to his belt.

“No time.” Garrett waves him off. “I wanna get whatever pills are going to pick her back up and get back here as quickly as possible.”

“You don’t even know what’s wrong with her.” Liam looks dubious.

Garrett just shrugs, grabbing his coat off the counter and pulling it on. “So we’ll take everything we can get our hands on and College can diagnose her later.”

_That’s not suspicious at all._ “Sounds like a plan.” Brett says, discreetly examining Garrett, while he readies himself. He’s definitely up to something. Doesn’t matter, Brett’s survived this long because he’s good at avoiding confrontation – Garrett won’t get a chance to get the drop on him.

Liam clearly wants to argue with the two of them, but Garrett shoots him a look that prevents him from objecting.

“I should go too.” He says instead. “Cover more area.”

“No can do, Li. Need someone to protect Violet. You know that.” He levels a chastising look at the smaller boy.

“He’ll be fine.” Brett assures Liam, trying to look confident. “I’ll watch his back.”

“That mean you trust me enough to give back my gun?” Garrett crooks a smile at him.

“Not a chance.”

“Worth a shot.”

“That’s what I’m worried about. Let’s get going.” Brett doesn’t say anything as Garrett grabs the crowbar he’d used on him the other day. He  _does_  need some type of weapon and the crowbar is a much safer option than either his machete or a gun.

“Seeya later, Li.” Garrett pulls Liam into a one-armed hug.

Brett knows plenty of pharmacies in the area, but decides against venturing anywhere near Fenway or Downtown. Moving out of the city into the safer residential areas would take too long, so he decides on South Boston. It’s not a safe area by any standards, but biters are easier to deal with than people. Not to mention it’s one of the areas of Boston he’s most familiar with, being only a stone’s throw from BU’s School of Medicine.

He has to admit that despite being an arrogant dickwad, Garrett definitely knows how to pull his own weight and keep up while trekking through the city. He’s almost forgotten how nice it is to have someone to travel with. Even this asshole.

“So then that bitch dumps Liam and starts dating this complete tool – Theo. I mean, not that anyone can really blame her; they’d been dating three months and he still hadn’t even tried to fuck her. The rumors had already been going around since middle school and they only got worse after that.”

“You don’t say.” Brett murmurs, disinterestedly. He wishes he was as aloof as his tone sounds, but he’s actually hanging onto every one of Garrett’s words. He’s been curious about Liam since seeing him for the first time, but the short boy isn’t really the type to open up.

Garrett on the other hand . . .

“I mean, they weren’t just rumors, but that’s why I convinced him to date her in the first place. Didn’t want my best bud getting his ass kicked when I wasn’t around to protect him.”  _Kind of nice, I guess._  “I tried to get him to give it to her too, but he wouldn’t. I even offered to swap out with him, y’know; let him get her into bed, then go to the bathroom or something and I’d tap in, she wouldn’t have even noticed in the dark and then he could rest a little easier. But nope, Li refused and then got his ass dumped.”

_He probably refused because that’s rape you piece of shit._

“You ever think of just supporting him?” He tries to keep his voice as impartial as possible. He’s usually pretty good at it, but he knows it comes out strained.

“Let him be a fairy and get his ass kicked?” Garrett looks at him like he’s got two heads. “No way.”

“I dunno, looks like he can handle himself.”

“He can’t.” Garrett says, shortly. “He’s not right in the head. He doesn’t have an off button when it comes to being angry, so he’d either get the shit beat out of him or he’d murder someone.”

Brett looks at him, confused. Liam seemed a little touchy and insecure, but  _murder?_

“Yeah, he’s got some condition, I forget the name. Not on pills anymore, but he’s been doing alright. I like him better this way anyway.”

_“I get angry sometimes and I get mad for dumb reasons.”_  Brett recalls Liam saying last night and feels like a huge tool.  _“We all get angry,”_  He’d said like a complete asshole. Liam had tried to tell him something, open up a bit and Brett completely blew him off.

“I know how to keep him in line better than the pills anyway. He just needs a firm hand sometimes, y’know? Not that I hurt him or anything, but a solid tap on the head when he’s losing control always helps him calm down.”

_What a kind and caring friend._ Brett’s beginning to think he spoke too soon on the whole travelling companion issue.

“You so sure someone would’ve come at him for it? California’s not as bad as some places with shit like that and you mentioned he had a gay friend, before he joined the lacrosse team. He ever get his ass kicked?”

“Not sure.” Garrett shrugs. “Didn’t pay attention to him. Like I said, when freshman year came around I told Liam to cut him loose. I wasn’t gonna take any chances with him. All it’d take was for Liam to think he liked the guy and it’d be the end of him. One fight and he’d be dead or in prison.”

_You’re seriously fucked in the head, dude._ But Brett has to admit that his intentions were good, though more likely than not unnecessary.  _No wonder Liam’s so withdrawn. He never got to be himself before the biters came, Garrett had cut off all hope of that._ Brett can’t even begin to imagine the extent that he’s been emotionally stunted.

“Anyway,”

The two of them round a corner and find themselves on a wide boulevard, the brick sidewalks interrupted every few yards by small trees planted along the curb. Brett recalls stopping by the Walgreens on this block to buy tampons and condoms on a fairly regular basis.

He remembers how the cashier at the counter was always so impressed that he wasn’t ashamed to be buying tampons for his girlfriend.

_“Most men are such babies about that kind of thing.”_   _She’d say and Brett would laugh, “I’d do anything to help my baby.” He’d had to conceal the fact that he actually had been pretty embarrassed the first few times._

“We’re here.” He cuts Garrett off. “Over there.” He points to a storefront that looks more like a locally owned pharmacy than a Walgreen’s, with a little blue canopy overhang sticking out and glass windows letting in plenty of sun.

“What’s this?” Garrett smirks as they close in, ignoring the Walgreen’s in favor of the community health center next to it.

“Free clinic.” Brett tries to continue on, but Garrett’s lingering.

“Nice flag.” He snickers like a pre-teen boy at the rainbow flag hanging in the front window. “Should bring it back for Li.”

“Yeah, I bet he’d love that.”

“Your sarcasm hurts. There a lot of queers in Boston?”

It doesn’t even sound like Garrett intends it as an insult and that makes Brett even angrier.

“The South End’s a pretty diverse place,” Is all he says. “Let’s just go. That place is already picked clean.”

“Lead the way.”

The Walgreens isn’t untouched either, but Brett knows the second floor still has plenty of drugs. Most survivors don’t waste time checking the entire building if the first floor is cleared out – that’s why Brett always makes certain to empty the ground floor first, then come back for whatever else he needs.

“Looks cleared out.” Garrett follows him, nevertheless.

“That’s the point.” Brett motions for Garrett to follow him up the stairs to the second floor.

“Take everything from that shelf.” He points to a glass cabinet behind the pharmaceutical counter, containing some pretty decent antibiotics. “It’s not locked just pull on it, I picked it a while ago.”

“Damn.” Garrett whistles lowly, sliding the glass open. “You wanna tell me any other secrets?”

“Nope.” Brett says, while weaving in and out of isles, grabbing boxes and bottles of anything he can find. Aspirin, Tylenol, Advil, Aleve, Benadryl, Sudafed, none of it major, but all of it could be useful to these kids. He’s pretty set himself, but he doesn’t plan on staying with these three long and when he leaves he’d prefer they not all meet their ends due to the flu or some random thing that’d be easy to beat with a little good-old-fashioned American medication. All of it goes into the backpack he always carries.

It’d been his younger sisters before he left for college, but she was adamant that he take it with him.

_“I want you to remember me while you’re there.”_

_“I’d never forget you, Lor.” He’d had to fight back tears that day, leaving Lori alone._

_Not alone,_  he reminds himself.  _She’s fine, Satomi would never let anything happen to her. I might never see her again, but she’s going to live a long, happy life. She deserves that much._

Anyway, Brett still proudly sported the purple JanSport with the glittery horse stickers on it and  _“LORI”_  emblazoned across the back in black sharpie.

He grabs a bottle of Imodium after a slight hesitation. Diarrhea’s a bitch in the apocalypse.  _Why not be cautious?_

He realizes that Garrett’s been silent for too long only a second before the shelf to his left comes collapsing on top of him.

“Sucks. I was hoping to get a little more use out of you.” Garrett brings his own weight down on top of the shelf. “But I can’t pass up an opportunity, right?”

Brett can’t breathe. The shelf is being pressed down on him and he realizes, belatedly, that not only is Garrett pressing it down on top of him, but he’s reaching through one of the slots and trying to choke him.

_Fuck if this little bitch is going to kill me._  Brett tries to slam forward, but only manages to wobble the blond boy a bit, before he feels calloused thumbs crush down on his windpipe – cutting off his momentum.

“You can’t be that surprised?” This guy is actually smiling right now.  _Sadistic fuck._

_I’m not dying here. Not until I find Cora. Not until I end her suffering._

_Gun._  He stops trying to fight Garrett off and reaches for the pistol holstered at his side.

“You wish, College.” Garrett shifts his weight, bringing the shelf down on Brett’s arm: hard.

“Ah!” He lets out a choked moan.  _No time for pain. You’ve been in worse situations. Move. Do something._

Garrett may have one arm completely trapped, but to do that he had to take the weight completely off of Brett’s right side. He doesn’t remember moving the muscles, but sees his fist rocket through one of the slots in the shelf and connect with Garrett’s jaw with a stomach-turning crack.

Go. He throws the shelf off of himself with all his strength and goes for the gun again, but Garrett’s on him in a second. This kid’s got a good reaction time.

They wrestle over the gun, both trying to pull it free of Brett’s holster until Garrett jerks backwards and then slams his forehead into Brett’s nose.

Blood sprays into the air as Brett falls backwards, trying but failing to keep the gun out of the others boys hand.

Spots dance across his vision and he thinks he might blackout for a second, but knows he can’t.  _For Cora. You can’t die._

“Uh uh.” Garrett tsks, pulling back the slide with a sharp click. “Don’t move.”

* * *

**Liam’s POV**

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fucking Fuck._

Liam sprints down the street, ignoring the growing trail of zombies he’s beginning to pick up. He’s long since learned that they’re easy to outrun, but dangerous to take in close combat.

_He’s probably already dead._  Liam pushes himself harder. He’s not sure which of them he’s worried about, but he knows that if he’s not faster it won’t matter.

_“Hey, Li.” Violet had smiled at him from her place in the bed._

_“Y-you’re . . . you’re awake.”_

_“Feeling a hell of a lot better too.” She smiled at him, gingerly touching at her bandaged wound. “Don’t worry, Garrett’s taking care of our friend.”_

_Liam ran._

He hasn’t stopped running since that moment.  _There’s only one reason Garrett wouldn’t tell them that Violet was better. He’s going to kill Brett. He didn’t want him suspecting it._

He has a general idea of where they were going – having watched them from the window for as long as he could – but he doesn’t have any clue where he is now, how to get home, or if he’ll even be able to find them.

The guttural moans are getting louder and louder.  _That’s a shit ton of corpses. Great job, Liam._

He hears something. A crash. It could be anything, but Liam knows it’s not. He knows it’s them.

Racing towards it he rushes into a rundown looking pharmacy, which has been picked over twenty times. He doesn’t stop to question why they’d be here, instead bounding up the stairs to the next floor.

His movements halt immediately when he hears a voice.  _Garrett’s alive_ , he thinks with a relieved sigh.

“Don’t lie to me!” He roars with the type of furiosity Liam hasn’t heard since the early days of the outbreak. “I know you two fucked, you wouldn’t still be here if you didn’t have a reason!”

“My reason is to fix your girlfriend, you fucking insane prick.” Brett sounds tired. “I’m not even gay, are you seriously going to kill me because you think I’m gonna steal your boyfriend?”

“Watch your fucking mouth.” Garrett’s lost his volume, but his tone is still deadly. “He’s my best friend.” Liam takes a tentative step up; there’s only a few more steps until the next floor and he can stop this before either of them gets hurt. “But more importantly, he’s useful. I can keep myself and Violet safe as long as I have him around. I’m not letting you mess that up.”

Liam freezes, feeling his entire world drop away.  _You knew,_ he tells himself,  _you’ve always known. You didn’t want to hear it, but you knew._

“He’ll realize it sooner or later.” Brett’s voice isn’t getting any stronger.

“He won’t.” Garrett sounds certain.

Liam distantly hears the corpses growing closer, he knows they’re probably even closer than he thinks, but he doesn’t dare move.

“He’s almost come close: once. Right after we left Cali, he wanted to go back, said I didn’t care about him enough and he wanted his friends. I told him they were dead, but when that didn’t work . . .”  _Don’t. Please don’t._  “I kissed him. Told him he was the most important person in the world, I just didn’t know how to show it. Said I didn’t know how to be with a guy.”

Liam feels like his chest has just been clawed open and his organs ripped from his body. Hot tears prick at his eyes, but he doesn’t let them fall.  _Go ahead, say the rest. Say it all._

“He melted for me. I even got a blowjob out of it – had to picture Violet to actually get it up for him, but after that he never tried to leave us ag- oh, he’s a swallower by the way. That was pretty cool, Vi never swallows.” Garrett’s chuckling now and Liam feels rage boil up in the place of his shredded innards.

_Liar. You lied to me. You used me. You lied to me and I believed you._  He doesn’t know who he hates more right now; Garrett for using him, himself for falling for it, or Brett for being the reason it’s out in the open.

“Fuck you. He’s going to find out.”

“How? You gonna tell him? Good thing you’re not leaving here alive.”  _No._ Liam’s feet carry him up another step.

“How can you just use him like that?” Brett spits, “He thinks you’re his best friend.”

“He  _is_  my best friend. I do love him, but I love myself and Violet more – why should I be ashamed of that? I’m going to do what it takes to get us through this and if that means getting Liam to do the dangerous work then fuck it, I’ll let him. It’s not like I would ever kill him myself.”

“You’re sick.”

“I’m going to survive!”

Liam surges into the room and charges straight for Garrett, taking the blond boy by complete surprise.

“Li-,”

Liam smashes into him and the two crash down onto the floor in a tumble of swears and bared teeth.

“Fuck you!” Liam snarls, feeling a years’ worth of repressed anger bubbling up.  _I’ll kill you for this. I will._

“Liam!” Garrett’s stronger than him, he’s always been, but Liam’s determined that he isn’t going to lose this time.

He’s flipped onto his back and feels Garrett’s fist connect with his cheek.  _One. Two. Three. Four._   _More and more and more._  Liam doesn’t notice the pain, but his face feels hot and he can see his blood on Garrett’s knuckles.  _Doesn’t matter_ , he tells himself,  _just get the gun_.

Garrett had dropped it in their struggle and Liam almost has his fingers wrapped around it.

“No you don’t!” Garrett presses his knee into Liam’s chest and stomps down on his wrist.

Liam cries out in pain, trying to throw Garrett off of him, but the other boy’s already picking the gun up and aiming it right into Liam’s face.  _I’ve never stared down a gun this close before_.  _I’m going to die._

_Kill me. Just do it._

A shot rings out.

. . . But he feels no pain. Well, that’s not true, but not the type of pain he’d thought he’d feel. There’s no sharp agony from a bullet ripping through his skull or burning hellfires, but he can still feel the throbbing of his face and the stinging in his wrist.

He looks up, just as the gun falls to the floor beside him and Garrett bellows like a dying animal. He’s clutching his shoulder and dark blood is running down his arm.

Tilting his head, Liam sees Brett – half propped up against a fallen shelf – holding his own gun and staring at the two of them, wide-eyed.

“Grab it!” He shouts and Liam does. Grabbing the gun, he rolls to his feet and shoves Garrett off himself and into one of the glass windows.

A crack echoes around the room as the glass shatters and Garrett falls backwards.

Liam doesn’t think, just moves. A moment later he’s got a hand fisted through the front of Garrett’s shirt, holding him on the buildings ledge and –  _oh for fuck’s sake_  – over a growing herd of zombies, gathering below.

_You’re dying,_  he thinks.  _You have to die. I want you to die . . . but not like that. No one should die like that._  Liam glances at the gun in his other hand. He raises it towards Garrett’s head, feeling no emotion at the flash of fear in Garrett’s eyes.  _You deserve to be afraid._

“Liam, no!” Liam turns in time to see Brett stumbling to his feet. Also in time to see the zombie closing in behind him.

Without thinking, he turns and fires, watching as the zombie’s head explodes into chunks of rotted flesh.

_Now. Garrett._  But Garrett’s gone. Liam’s got nothing in his other hand and his best friend is no longer hanging off the ledge of the building.

He registers the screaming a second later.  _No._

* * *

**Brett’s POV**

Brett feels the bullet whizz by - right over his shoulder and turns to see the biter’s headless body collapse to the ground. He releases his breath.  _He wasn’t trying to kill me._

Then the ear-shattering shrieking begins and he whips back around to face Liam. Garrett’s gone and Liam looks confused for a moment, before it dawns on him what he’s just done and he drops Garrett’s gun.

_He just saved me is what he did,_  Brett thinks.  _He just let his best friend die in the worst way imaginable and he saved me._

_He saved me._

But Garrett isn’t dead yet, that’s obvious by the horrifying screams coming from the street below.  _He’s being eaten_. Brett feels a twitch in his chest. No one should die like that, but he can’t help but see the justice there. He’d been a monster to Liam in life and now he’d be an actual monster in death. _If there was anything left of him to be a monster, that is._

“Liam.” He says, tentatively.  _We need to go_. He can hear the biters on the floor below. They aren’t advancing up the stairs any longer though, instead turning back to try and get at what’s left of Garrett.

“Garrett . . ?”

“No, Liam. We need to go.” He grabs onto Liam by the shoulder, pulling him away from the window.  _He doesn’t need to see what that looks like._

Garrett’s screams are choked off now and Brett almost can’t hear the garbled retching over the sound of the zombies tearing through flesh and hissing at each other. _He deserves it,_  Brett tries to tell himself, but he can’t believe it.  _I’ll make Liam believe it though_.

“We need to get him.” Liam protests weakly.

“Later.” Brett wraps Liam’s arm around his shoulders and all but carries him from the room.

He feels lightheaded, but knows now is not the time and powers through it. It’d be a lot easier if Liam stopped acting like a zombie himself, but he doesn’t have time to wait for him or hold a therapy session right now. He’s just done something unthinkable and Brett isn’t about to leave him on his own.

Luckily the biters are completely distracted by Garrett and Brett’s able to haul Liam out of the backdoor and into an empty alleyway.

“Liam.” He leans the younger boy against the building, “Liam, I need you to walk.” It’s almost a mile back to the apartment and with the shattering glass and gunshot, all of the zombies within that mile will be bearing down on them. He won’t be able to carry Liam out of here safely.

“I let him go.” Liam says, unsurely. It almost sounds like a question.

“You did.” Brett pushes him back against the wall and bends down a bit so that they’re at eye level. “He was going to kill you and you saved yourself. Now you need to save yourself again.” _And me._

“I killed him.” _You saved me too._

“No.” Brett shakes his head.  _Fuck, Liam, now is not the time_. But he knows Liam can’t help it – _for fuck’s sake the kids never even killed anyone before and his first had to be his best friend?_  “The biters did that, you hear me?” He shakes him, trying to rattle him to his senses. “And they’re going to get us too if you don’t follow me. Now.”

Liam still isn’t looking at him and Brett can hear the zombies finishing up their meal, beginning their search for fresh meat again. He’s desperately searching Liam’s blank expression for any sign of a response, but gets nothing and panic starts to overtake him.

“Liam!” He roars in the younger boy’s face, making him flinch. “Follow me, now!”

He turns to go, but grabs Liam’s hand in the process.  _Maybe if I just push him enough_.

Shockingly, Liam follows along without much force. Brett doesn’t release his hand though, he’s not going to risk rushing ahead and looking back to find Liam pinned down by a herd.

_Side streets. Stick to the side streets_. They’re usually more dangerous, because there’s less place to maneuver but most of the biters in the area are on their way to the Walgreen’s right now, so they should be mostly empty.

_Fuck me._ Three zombies block their path forward, gazing at them hungrily.  _No time to go around_. Brett pushes Liam out of the way, holstering his gun and drawing the machete.  _No loud noises._

He rushes them before they have a chance to move, cleaving through the nearest one’s head like a piece of rotten fruit and then stepping out of the way as the second tries to lung at him.  _It was old._  Brett only survived because the first biter was so old and decayed that he was able to cut right through its skull. If his machete had gotten stuck . . .  _No time_.

The third one used been a young woman, probably pretty when she was alive, but now her skin sloughed at grisly angles and her eyes are glassed over with rot. He doesn’t hesitate as he decapitates her at the neck with one swing.

The second lurches around for a second go at Brett, but it’s slow and he’s able to drive his machete right through the back of its spinal cord.

Wasting no time, he grabs Liam’s hand again and begins to pull him along. With his recent luck, they’ll have to face off a dozen more before making it to the apartment.

But they don’t. In fact Brett doesn’t even see a single biter after that, not even a straggler. They arrive outside the apartment faster than he’d thought they would and he begins to march up the front steps.

“No.” Liam’s grip on Brett’s hand tightens and pulls him to a stop.

“We need to get inside, so I can take a look at your nose.” Brett looks down at his bloody face. He looks completely exhausted, his hair matted down with sweat and the blood on his face half-dried and thick.

“We can’t here. She’s in there.”

“Who?” Then, “Violet?”

“She’s better and she knew. . .” He doesn’t elaborate and Brett doesn’t need him to.  _She knew Garrett was going to try and kill you. She’ll want you dead more than ever now._

“We’ll be okay.” He waves the gun in the air. “I can handle her if she tries anything.”

“No!” Liam hollers, squeezing Brett’s hand until he thinks the kid’s about to break it. “No one gets hurt!”

Brett winces at the pain in his hand, but lowers the gun. “What do you want to do then? We’re both bleeding and there’s a huge herd that’s going to follow our scent if we don’t get inside or move, quickly.”

“You said you had safe places in the city. That means other places like your factory.”

“I did.” Brett nods. “None of them are close by, besides the factory. It’d be easier for us to rest here tonight and you can come with me tomorrow morning if you want.” _I want you to._

“It’s not- no, we can’t. We need to go.”

“Liam-”

“Please!” There’s tears in his eyes and  _fuck_  if Brett can argue with that. _He just lost his best friend you asshole; the last thing he needs right now is to see the girl._

_But she might die without anyone to help her, she might not be well enough to fend for herself,_ Brett thinks to himself.  _But what are we supposed to do? She’s not going to accept Garrett’s death and I can’t really take care of someone who’s trying to kill me._

“Alright.” Brett relents, and gives Liam’s shaking hand a squeeze. “We’ll go, but the closest one that isn’t in biter infested territory is a few miles away. That means it’s a far walk and I can’t carry you the whole way. You sure you can stay on your feet for a few hours?”

“I’ll be fine.” Liam says shortly, not looking at Brett or the building.  _He doesn’t want to remember._

Brett hadn’t really noticed that they were holding hands before, - it’d just been a way to force Liam to keep moving – _but_  he notices now. Liam’s hand is much smaller than his own and his palm is sweating, but his fingers are calloused and tough and he’s already proven that he could grip like a vice.

Liam’s eyes flicker to their joined hands and heat rises in his cheeks. He opens his mouth at the same time as he tries to pull his hand away. “I-”

“C’mon, if we’re gonna make it before sundown we need to go now.” Brett tugs on Liam’s hand and starts up the road.

They’ll need to avoid Downtown and Fenway, which cuts off all of the closest routes. Crossing the Charles into Cambridge or Charlestown would mean they need a bridge and the Mass Ave. and BU bridges are too close to Fenway to be safe. With Downtown already ruled out, that leaves Allston. He knew of at least three bridges that cross the Charles there, but it’d be an almost 3 hour trip – maybe longer if Liam can’t keep up.

He doesn’t even consider using the T tunnels. Sure the Red Line would have them at the Cambridge loft in less than an hour, but no one who isn’t suicidal or stupid goes underground these days.

_Cambridge is outside the city. If I go there I won’t find her. There’s nothing for me there. No one else survived, they’d have been there if they did._

He doesn’t stop.  _Liam will be there and he’ll be safe. That’s something._

Liam’s not doing so good a job at keeping up and Brett needs to stop and pull him back to his feet multiple times during their journey. They’re both thirsty, but there’s no time to scavenge for supplies with the sun’s relentless pace across the sky taunting him.  _There’s water at the loft. You’d both be safe there, but you won’t make it. Night’s coming and you’ll both be torn to pieces in the street._

_No._  He’s saved this kids life too many times to let him die here.  _He saved your life too. Don’t forget that._

_More times now actually . . ._

They’re moving even slower than Brett anticipated, mostly due to Liam shuffling along like he’s already a biter.

_Think about the past few days he’s had,_ Brett reminds himself, trying not to get angry at Liam for tripping to his knees . . . again.

_He almost died before I saved him, watched one of his friends get shot, had the other crush his feelings, and then he accidently killed that friend to save me. He doesn’t even know me and he let Garrett die for me._

_He’s going to hate me for that when he comes to his senses._

But that’s a problem for later. Liam clearly won’t make it to Cambridge like this, not before twilight anyway. Brett’s already forgone pulling him by the hand for wrapping Liam’s arm over his shoulders and basically dragging him along.

They need to risk it and hope one of the Allston safe houses that Brett hasn’t checked in the past month is still unoccupied.

Liam’s growing less and less responsive by the minute and that’s only making Brett more agitated.  _We need to get inside soon._ The sun’s already well past its peak and beginning the decline that will spell death for the both of them if they don’t get indoors.

Somehow Brett finds himself fireman carrying Liam over his shoulders and fuck if the kid isn’t forty pounds heavier than he looks.

_You are really not making this easy on me, shorty._

They make it as far as lower Allston, before Brett decides it’s far enough. It’d be a short trip to Cambridge and the safety of the loft, but Liam won’t walk and Brett can’t carry him there before nighttime.

He finds the nearest safe house without much searching. He memorized the location of all of them before he’d even left BU’s main campus.  _We all did, but I’m the only one who’s lived long enough to use them._

It looks just like he last left it, windows boarded up, front door nailed shut, brick walls tall and imposing. The first floor of the three story building is completely empty and boarded up, seemingly like the other two, but using the back porch you could climb up into an open window on the second floor and then climb the stairs to the living area on the third.

“I need you to stand, Liam.” Brett set’s the younger boy down and looks at him.  _He looks like he’s about to drop dead from exhaustion._  His eyes are cast down but open, with dark circles beneath like bruises. Brett doesn’t think he’s ever seen such a young person look so tired.

“Hey.” He shakes his shoulders a bit, trying to get his attention. It works to an extent. “I’m going to need you to hang on just one more minute. I need you to climb up there.” He points, explaining what he needs to do.

It takes some work and extra prodding, but he gets Liam through the window and follows after him, swiftly.

“Wait here.” Brett leaves the unresponsive teen at the window, while he scopes out the building, ensuring that they’re alone. Coming back he finds Liam exactly where he’d left him. “Up you go.” He hefts Liam’s arm over his shoulders again and walks him up to the third floor.

Not much of a setup here, but there’s still half a case of water, a fairly decent amount of food, and a mattress lying on the floor in the far corner of what used to be a living room.

Setting Liam down on the mattress, Brett leaves him to grab two bottles of water.

“Drink.” He says, after uncapping Liam’s bottle and tilting it towards the boy’s lips. Liam drains the entire thing, so Brett offers him his own, but Liam declines with a shaky motion of his head.

Brett leaves him again, but only for a moment to find a washcloth. He takes a sip of water and then pours some onto the cloth and uses it to clean the blood off of his face. His nose hurts like a bitch, but he’s pretty certain it isn’t broken.

Taking a look at Liam’s he comes to the conclusion that Garrett could punch hard, but his aim was shitty. Neither of them are seriously injured, but they’d definitely be sore for a few days. He rinses his blood out of the rag as best he can, before using it to clean off Liam’s face.

_I feel like a daycare worker, wiping this kid’s nose._  Brett shakes off the unkind thought. Liam’s been through a lot, the least Brett can do for him is to wipe the blood off his face. _You like taking care of someone again, stop lying to yourself._

“Lay down.” Brett pushes the boy back onto the mattress. Liam hadn’t brought anything with them and Brett knows they aren’t anywhere near being the same size, so he resolves to loot an Old Navy or something tomorrow and grab what he can.  _Hopefully he didn’t leave anything important behind._

Liam doesn’t resist being laid down, but when Brett turns to leave he feels a hand clasping at his coat.

“Please . . .” Liam won’t meet his eyes and Brett can hear the distinct threat of tears in his voice.

_Fuck, how is he ever going to be okay after this?_

“It’s okay.” He says, smoothing a hand over Liam’s matted hair. “I gotchu.” He pushes onto the mattress and drapes an arm around Liam’s body.

Liam wastes no time in burrowing into his side, resting his head near Brett’s ribs. He feels the sobs racking the smaller boy’s entire body, but doesn’t know what to do. There’s nothing to say that can make what’s happened okay. Liam lost everything he had in a matter of minutes;  _because of me._

“I’m sorry.” He tries not to let his voice crack, but can’t help it. This hasn’t been easy on him, but he has to keep it together for Liam right now. They’re saddled together for the foreseeable future and Brett needs to get him back up to full speed soon.

Liam wipes his nose with the back of his hand and tries to stifle his crying.

“What did I do?”

Brett’s never heard someone sound so weak or hopeless in his life.

“What you had to.” He answers, knowing he’s right. His arm tightens around Liam’s small frame.  _Poor guy._  “You’re still alive, that’s what matters . . . and you saved me . . . thank you.”

“I didn’t-” He’s cut off by another round of waterworks, but continues when he gains control of himself. “I didn’t even know what was happening.”

“It doesn’t matter now.” Brett assures him. “You’re breathing, you’re safe. I’m not going to leave you. Thank you.”

Liam doesn’t answer him and eventually his crying fades and turns into snoring.  _Heavy, open mouthed snoring._

Brett doesn’t know what to do. He hadn’t planned on getting so involved in this little group, but he couldn’t pull out now. Garrett is dead: Liam let him die to save Brett. That isn’t the kind of thing you can just walk away from – especially not in this world.

_I’m going to protect him. I couldn’t protect her, I couldn’t protect any of them, but I will protect him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my favorite chapter so far, and not only because I finally got to vent my feelings about Garrett, but also the boys saving each other is cute as shit. Let me know what you guys think!


	5. Promises to the Dead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all like long chapters! This one was so much fun to write, I almost didn't stop :)

**Liam’s POV**

“You okay?” Liam turns his head to see Brett standing over him in the dim light of the morning.

_My back hurts from sleeping on this piece of shit, my nose feels like it’s still throbbing, I’m thirsty, I’m hungry, and I killed my best friend. What do you think?_

“Fine.” Liam rolls over, burying his face into the single pillow.

“You wanna – I don’t know – talk about anything?” Brett suggests, clearly trying to gauge Liam’s mood.

Liam understands he’s trying to help, but he doesn’t care.  _Garrett’s gone and I let it happen. I let Garrett die. I killed him._

He’s been lying awake, thinking about it for half the night; trying to pretend like he didn’t notice Brett was also awake and watching him.  _I’m not you’re problem._

He’s angry at himself. Not just for letting Garrett go, but for letting his guard down to the person who he’d saved instead. He’d cried last night - like actual sob crying - and now Brett’s going to look at him like he’s broken.  _You are broken._

“That’s okay, take your time.” Brett sits down on the mattress. “Drink this.” He presses a bottle against Liam’s arm.

“Thanks.” Liam lifts his head and drains the bottle in a few gulps. His throat feels cracked and raw, but the water helps.

“I just- I want you to know that . . .” Liam can see Brett’s struggle to phrase his thoughts correctly play out on his face. “I want you to know that I’m grateful . . . for what you did for me.”

“Didn’t do much of anything.” He hears Brett taking a sip from his own water.

“You saved me.” Brett asserts, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“By accident.” Liam feels his face heat and he can’t tell if he’s about to cry or punch Brett in the face. He hopes the latter.

“It doesn’t matter.” Brett puts a hand on his shoulder and forces Liam to meet his eyes. “You saved my life. I’d be dead if you didn’t. Thank you.”

_I wish you were . . . but I don’t. I wish I wished you were._

“He’s dead.” He says, testing the words out on his tongue. It doesn’t feel right – to talk about Garrett like he’s not going to walk into the room in a minute and call Liam a stupid name before punching him in the shoulder.

“He is.” Brett acknowledges, not trying to soften the blow, just agreeing with the fact. “But you and I aren’t.”

“I wish I were.”

“Liam,” Brett’s hand wraps around his wrist and pulls him to sit up. “Don’t ever say that. No,” He cuts Liam off before he can object, “Never. Do you hear me? We’re in this together now and I’m not going to let you start thinking like that. You’re here for a reason.”

Liam looks at him, warily. “There’s no reason for any of this.” He throws a hand up, “There’s fucking zombies roaming the planet eating people alive, don’t try to tell me you believe there’s a reason for that.”

“There’s a reason for everything.” Brett argues, firmly. “Even the bad things.”

“He didn’t deserve to die.”

“He did.” Brett surprises Liam, making him look up with shock and anger in his eyes. “Maybe not like that, but he did deserve to die, Liam. He risked your life, remember? He used you, he’s killed before and he was going to again, until you stopped him.”

“By killing him.” Liam finishes, “So now, I deserve to die next. That’s how your logic works, right?”

“No.” Brett shakes his head and runs a hand through his curly hair, trying to smooth it back. “You didn’t kill him. I stopped you. You didn’t kill him, you did the right thing and the universe responded.”

_The universe? Shit, college kids really are pretentious._

“I should’ve done it. Ended it quick. That would have been the right thing.”

“No.” Brett insists. “Listen kid: we might not be best friends or whatever and yeah, I’ve only known you a few days, but I knew that you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if you’d done it. That’s why I stopped you.”

_Stop doing that. Stop acting like you care._

“Look,” He passes his half-full water bottle to Liam, after he catches him eyeing it eagerly. “We’ve known each other for what? Four days now? And in that time we’ve both saved each other’s lives plenty of times. That has to mean something.”

Liam drinks the entire bottle, trying to process Brett’s words. It all sounds like bullshit, but he’s never seen someone look as genuine as Brett does now.

“Are you a hippie?” He asks, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Are you a black hole?” Brett grins at the loud roar of Liam’s stomach. “Seriously, like does anything you eat even go anywhere?”

Liam smirks and looks away. “I’m a growing boy.” He grumbles, defensively, chucking the plastic bottle across the room.  _He’s probably going to get mad at that; go all ‘littering is killing the planet’ on me._

But the older boy just shakes his head with a smile.

“I’m sorry.” Brett’s tone catches him off guard. “You seem like a good kid, you don’t deserve any of this.”

“You don’t know what type of person I am.”  _A violent person. I’m angry and violent and I hurt people. This is nothing new._

“I do.” Brett leans back onto the mattress, out of Liam’s sight. “No one who saves another person’s life so many times can be that bad. Maybe if you’d saved me once, I could chalk it up to acting on instinct, but two times? Three? No, you’re a good person.”

Liam doesn’t say anything in response. He doesn’t have anything to say.  _You don’t know._

“I know about your condition.” Brett once again manages to catch Liam completely off guard. “He . . . uh, told me about it; said you had anger management issues and you were on medication for it. That’s what you tried to tell me the other night, wasn’t it?”

Liam forces himself to nod.

“I’m sorry . . . I blew you off. I should’ve been paying more attention to what you were saying.”

“It’s fine, please stop that.” It takes a lot of effort, but he’s able to control his tone. He doesn’t want to offend Brett – shit, he probably needs him to survive now – but this guy has to have some flaws and Liam needs to find them quickly.

“What?”

“Apologizing to me, explaining things, just get angry at me for fucking up already.”

“You haven’t done anything wrong.” Liam flinches at Brett’s hand on his back, which is immediately taken away. “Sorry, I forget.”

_Third apology in under three minutes, he’s probably gonna tell me that means something too._

“I have I.E.D.” Liam sighs. “Intermittent Explosive Disorder . . . or whatever.” The words feel foreign passing his lips and he realizes he hasn’t talked about it since leaving his friends in Beacon Hills. He waits for Brett to say something, but he doesn’t, simply acknowledging that he’s listening by making a low humming noise. “I used to be on medication for it, Lithium – it tasted really bad – but I ran out after we left California. So now I get angry and break things and do stupid things.”

“Is there anything I can do?” Brett asks, full of sincerity. “Like, I dunno, anything that calms you down or that helps when you get bad?”

_He’s talking like we’ll be together for a while . . ._

“No.” He lies, shaking his head. “Just wait it out, if I get bad, I guess.”

“Okay.” Brett nods, “But I’m not going to let you do anything too stupid or hurt yourself.”

_It’d be you I’d hurt you moron,_ Liam thinks.

“Where are we?” He asks, examining the room for the first time and trying to get off the topic of his mental health. It isn’t a bright area.

Brett takes the hint and gets to his feet. “Allston.”

“That is . . ?”

“In Boston still.”

“Great.” Liam huffs. “So do we stay here?”

“No.” Brett shakes his head, reaching out to pull Liam up to his feet. “There isn’t enough food or water here to last us. I want to get out of the city . . . there’s a place in Cambridge. A loft. It’s nice, you’ll like it.”

“Nice?” Liam looks at him skeptically. “I’m sure.”

“You’ll see.” Brett says, cryptically. Liam can see the hint of a smirk on his stupid –  _perfect_  – lips and he doesn’t like it.  _Liar._  “How’s your nose feel?” Brett asks, suddenly.

“Hurts like a bitch.” Liam gingerly pokes at his nose, wincing at the jolt of pain. “What about you?” He looks at Brett’s nose, still swollen looking and crusted with some dried blood he’d missed while cleaning it.

“Ah, I’m fine.” Brett waves Liam off. “Yours isn’t broken, but let me know if the pain doesn’t get any better by tomorrow.”

“Sure thing, dad.”

“Woah, slow down there, short-stack. We spend a few nights together and you’re already calling me daddy?” Brett has an evil grin on his face that Liam wants to punch off.

_That’s not the only thing you want to do to his face,_ Liam idly thinks.  _Fuck, you really need to get a grip. Sure he’s hot, but he’s straight and we have bigger problems right now. Zombie sized problems._

“Fuck off.”

He can hear Brett laughing as he grabs a few bottles of water and some cans that look ridiculously appetizing, and loads them up into his backpack. “Wanna go clothes shopping?” Brett asks, pulling the drawstrings tight and sliding the bag onto his shoulders.

Liam narrows his eyes. “Don’t we have bigger problems?”  _Zombie sized problems,_  he thinks to himself again and has to stifle a laugh.

“Not at the moment.” Brett shakes his head, “Your nose bled all over your shirt.” He gestures at the dried brown stain on Liam’s white shirt. “There are clothes at the loft, but none of the others were your size so unless you’d prefer to roam the apocalypse naked, you might wanna take me up on my offer.”

“You have a group?” Liam takes a step away from him.  _I should’ve known not to trust him. Fucking, fuck._

“No,” Brett must be able to see the panic in his eyes, because he adopts an open posture and stares at Liam honestly. “I told you, not anymore . . . I used to be with a group of kids from BU, we’d all hunkered down in the schools chapel and a few of us went out to find a safer place and set it up for the others.”

“Oh . . . yeah . . .” He feels like an ass, but relaxes a bit at Brett’s assurances. He could still be lying, but Liam wouldn’t bet on it. He can’t help his next question. “What happened?”

Brett’s eyes fall on him and Liam’s certain he won’t answer. He looks cold. Liam hasn’t seen that look on him yet and it’s a little scary.

“Fenway.” Brett utters the word with complete disgust. “They attacked the chapel before we were ready to move. Didn’t even kill that many of us either, just let the biters in and blocked the exits . . . I was the only one who made it out.”

“I-um . . . that’s . . . sucks.” Liam stammers, anxiously searching for the right thing to say.  _Yep, and ‘sucks’ is exactly what you’re supposed to say to someone who just told you that they were the only one of their friends to survive a massacre. Sucks. Good job, Liam._

“It’s cool.” Brett gives a small shake of his head. “Before they came, we set up a few places around the city, but decided that the loft was the safest. This engineering major even got the shower and sink to work decently well – don’t ask me how. I went there after I got away from the school. I waited almost a month, but no one ever came.” He finishes, his tone shifting from emotional to medical half-way through.

_I’m not the only one . . ._ He reminds himself.  _We’re all fucked._

“You sure you want me to go there?” He asks, hesitantly. “It sounds . . .”

“Sacred?”

“Yeah.”

“It is.” Brett smiles, banishing all trace of negativity with such a simple stretch of muscles. “Let’s go. I want to get there today, so we should try to be quick getting your clothes.”

The two of them leave the safe house through the window – only slowing for a moment so that Brett can help Liam down from the ledge.

“You’re short.” The taller boy mocks him, arms encircling his waist to lower him to the porch railing.

“Funny. You know, you’re the first person to tell me that? Ever?”

Brett just continues to smile and starts off down the street.

“Here.” He detaches the gun and holster from his belt, handing them over to Liam.

He doesn’t touch it. Just stares at it.

“You need a weapon.” Brett waves the gun. “That tiny little needle you have in your boot won’t keep you safe. I know how to use the machete and the guns a last resort anyway. Don’t fire it unless you don’t have any other options. We don’t want to bring all the biters in the city down on us.”

“Okay.” Liam tries to steel his nerves. He grabs the gun and fits the holster to his belt.  _It’s just a piece of metal. That kills zombies. People too . . . Brett trusts me._

They pass a Dunkin’ Donuts at the first intersection and Liam’s stomach rumbles loudly, again.

“No food in there, dude. Just rotten pastries and flies. Now there,” He points to a liquor street a little further down the street, “Is a useful store. We are definitely going to hit that up at some point.”

“I bet.”

“You ever drink?” Brett asks, leading them down a side street. “Before everything, I mean.”

“Once . . . Garrett brought me to this party when we joined the lacrosse team, it was at this girl, Lydia’s, lake house. I only drank a beer at first, but Garrett kept pushing me to drink more and then he started mixing different things together and giving them to me.”

“Bet that was fun.”

Liam recalls the feeling with a wave of nausea. “For about ten minutes until I puked it all up and got on Lydia’s bad side.” He smiles at the ground, thinking about the way she’d looked at him, demanding that he scrub her grandmother’s carpet clean. “And that’s how I met Scott and his friends.”

“Boyfriend?” Brett asks, casually.

“No.” Liam says, immediately, turning to look at him. “Just a friend. He was good to me, took care of me that night; he kept making me drink water and eat chips. I almost threw up again.” He tries not to get too lost in the thought.  _It was a good time, but it’s gone now. Scott’s gone. No use in getting worked up over it._  “He was the captain of the lacrosse team and I felt special when he started asking me to sit with him and his friends at lunch.” Liam fondly remembers the seniors who took him in. Scott, Stiles, and Malia; hell even Jackson and Danny had been nice to him.

“What happened to them?”

“Garrett got jealous, made me stop hanging out with them right before Lydia went back to school. Sucks too, she threw another party the night before and I was determined to remember more of that one.”

Brett laughs, listening to Liam while constantly scanning the perimeter for any sign of movement. “Usually the better ones are the ones you don’t remember.”

“Oh yeah?” Liam grins. “You party a lot?”

“Not that much.” Brett’s got a strange look on his face. “Hung around some people who did though, sort of got pulled into it . . . so no boyfriends? I know you tried to hide it and all, but you’re not that short, hard to imagine no one took an interest.”

Liam’s cheeks heat and he’s determined not to meet Brett’s eyes.

_Law #1 of the post-zombie world: straight guys need to chill._

“No.” He shakes his head. “Never got the chance. Was always busy with lacrosse or dealing for Peter. Had a girlfriend once though . . . that was a pain in the ass.”

Brett laughs, loudly. “You’re telling me.”

“What about you?”

“Nope.” Brett presses his lips together, “No boyfriends for me.” He grins and Liam feels himself smiling back. “I did have a girlfriend though . . . I think I told you about her.”

Liam looks at him with an eyebrow raised.  _Definitely didn’t mention a girlfriend._

“The girl who got bit on the neck.” Brett clarifies, his expression sobering a bit, but he somehow still maintains a certain tranquility. “Her name was Cora, we’d been dating almost since I first came to Boston. She had me completely wrapped around her finger.”

Liam doesn’t know what to say to that. He wants to ask more about her, but he doesn’t know if he’d be crossing a line and he really isn’t looking to make Brett mad at him. Luckily he doesn’t need to ask.

“She was a philosophy major.” He’s smiling off into the distance now, lost in some memory that Liam wishes he could see as vividly as Brett seems to. Instead he takes up zombie-watch. “I told her it was a complete waste of time, but she was all about living life to make herself happy, not prove anything to other people. Freedom is success, she’d always say.”

“Sounds like you.”

“I guess.” Brett flashes his teeth. “She was good for me; helped me get used to being in a new city on my own, y’know?”

“Not really.” Liam kicks at a discarded can in the road. “Never really left Beacon Hills, before all this. I mean, I did go to a private school for a few years, but it wasn’t far.”

“Ooh, private school.” Brett wiggles his eyebrows at Liam, “And here I thought you were a drug-dealing badass from the other side of the tracks.”

Liam presses his lips into a line and gives him a look that is clearly unamused. “Mom remarried a doctor after my dad went to jail . . .”  _Don’t go there._

“You wanna talk about it?” Brett asks, not looking at Liam but not avoiding his gaze either.  _How do you make things like this seem so casual?_

“No . . . not now.”

“Fair enough. Let me know if you ever change your mind.” There’s no pressure in Brett’s voice though, and it’s something Liam isn’t used to. “I’m a good listener.”

“Okay.” Liam nods, following Brett down yet another side street.  _Why does he make things so easy? Nothings supposed to be easy. Not anymore._

“Jackpot.” Brett’s pace quickens until they arrive at a major intersection, bordered by various retail stores.

“Hell no.” Liam grumbles as Brett turns to walk into an Urban Outfitters.

“Problem?” The taller boy turns to lift a brow at Liam.  _Fuck, he looks like one of their models._ Tall, tan, and perfect.

“I’m not that gay.” Liam smiles as Brett doubles-over in laughter.

“Whatever, dude.” He wipes a tear from his eye. “It was a shitty company anyway. Had some cool clothes though.”

A few minutes later they’re scrounging around inside of a T.J. Maxx.

“You’re 100% on the no dresses thing?” Brett jokes, examining a yellow sundress.

“Fuck off.” Liam throws a balled up polo shirt at him, which he easily deflects.

“Muscle shirts?” Brett holds up a sleeveless shirt with an American flag design on it. “You’d look good in it . . . patriotic.”

“Nothing much left to be patriotic for.” He winds back and chucks a sneaker across the store.

“Well, what do you like?” Brett asks, looking like a frustrated parent. “Star Wars?”

Liam nods his head. “A little.” It isn’t his favorite movie, but he and Mason watched the original trilogy together when he was younger and after befriending Scott and Stiles he’d been forced to watch all of them a dozen times.

“There’s a bunch of Star Wars shit over there.” He points, “Go find some shirts, I’m gonna see if I can score some new sneakers for myself.” He stops, mid-step. “What size shoe are you? You should have something else besides those boots.”

“Seven.”

Brett makes a humming sound. “Small feet.” He smirks, “I know what that means.”

“Blow me.” Liam walks away, but can hear Brett’s laughter chasing him.  _Prick._

He finds the Star Wars merchandise, but it’s all just dumb stuff for kids. Not that it matters who sees him in a Jar Jar Binks t-shirt anymore, but still . . .

Something outside the window catches his eye.  _Can’t be._

He slowly exits the store and crosses the street to stand in front of a Newbury Comics.

“Well, shit.” He breathes.  _Haven’t seen one of these in a while._

He enters, flinching at the jingle of the bells on the door. His steps pause and he listens for any sign of a reaction to the sound.  _At least I know there’s no corpses in here._

“Sweet.” He immediately grabs a grey Dead Kennedys tee off of the nearest shelf. “Definitely beats Jar Jar.”

He’s in the store all of five minutes before he hears: “Liam!”

_Shit._  He drops the Slipknot sweatshirt he’d been inspecting to rush to the door and wave his arms, trying to get Brett to shut the fuck up before he lets all the zombies in the fucking city know where they are.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Brett demands, rushing across the street to look down on Liam.

“Looking for clothes.” Liam tilts his chin up and sets his jaw. “Like you told me to do.”

“I said in the store.”

“I’m not a dog. I don’t need a leash.”

“You might.” Brett’s face twitches in anger, but it’s gone a second later.  _Just when I thought I’d found a flaw._  “Sorry . . . Just didn’t know where you went. Y’know? Thought you took off for . . .”

_Violet. Violet who is alone and defenseless._

“We, uh, we should go back for her. Don’t you think?” Liam asks, tentatively. He thinks of his friend, alone in that bed, waiting for Garrett to come back to her. The thought makes his chest ache.

“She won’t want to see either of us, Liam.”

“She’ll die by herself.”

Brett’s silent a long time, simply staring Liam down with those clear eyes that seem to always be at ease.

“You’re right. We’ll do what we can. While we’re there you can grab anything you want to take with us to Cambridge.”

“Thanks.” Liam says the words, but doesn’t really feel them. He doesn’t want to admit it, even to himself, but he’d kind of been hoping Brett would put his foot down and say no. At least then he’d have an excuse as to why he didn’t go back to face Violet.

“Alright, let’s finish up here first. We need to be quick if we’re going to be back at the house before night. Cambridge might have to wait until tomorrow.” Brett eyes the shirt in his hand. “Dead Kennedys . . . didn’t know you were political.”

“I’m n-”

“It’s a joke, dude.” Brett grins. “But now that I’ve got a feel for your taste in music, I think I can help. You should change into that one, trash your old shirt, we don’t want the scent of the blood attracting anything with teeth.”

“Right.” Liam nods, self-consciously pulling his shirt off and dropping it to the floor. Brett’s already gone by the time he gets it off, – searching the store for more clothes – but Liam hurriedly pulls the new shirt on anyway. He’s not shy about his body, not usually anyway, but Brett’s really hot. That makes him nervous.

“Did you find shoes?” He asks, smoothing his hands over the soft fabric of his shirt. It feels good to have something new.

“Oh!” Brett opens his bag, dropping a few band tees into it and pulling out two pairs of identical black Nikes – the only difference being one was noticeably larger than the other. “They’re not as good as running shoes, but they’re a lot more comfortable and I’m hoping we won’t have to run too much more once we get to Cambridge.”

“You’re . . .” Liam can’t find the words. Matching shoes.  _He actually picked matching shoes for us._

“Cute?”  _Yes._

“Don’t flatter yourself.” He grumbles.

The pair are quick in picking over the store, grabbing Liam a couple of shirts, a new belt, and even a black beanie he insists on having despite it being the middle of summer.

“Alright.” Brett tightens the strings on his bag and slings it back over his shoulders. “Now that that’s all set. We should eat before we go any further.” He produces two cans of beans and a can opener.

It takes Liam all of two minutes to finish off his can, licking his lips and burping loudly.

When he looks up, he sees Brett staring at him, jaw slightly open. Liam smiles.

“Growing boy.”

“Sure.” Brett shakes his head and Liam waits for him to finish eating.

Cold beans taste pretty bad, but Liam’s happy to get his hands on any food at all. Maybe one day it’ll be safe enough to light a fire and he can actually eat something hot for once.

_We’re making good time_ , Liam thinks as they walk through the city. He doesn’t remember everything from the day before, but he does remember that it took them a hell of a lot longer when Brett had to basically drag him along.

“So where’d you get all that ‘everything is meant to be’ crap from anyway?” Liam questions, watching Brett check for zombies around a corner.

“Don’t know . . .” He’s talking absently. “Where’d you get all that pent up angst from?”

“Life.” Liam huffs, following him across the street and avoiding the cars. Corpses like to hide under things.

“Same here.” He can hear the smirk on the other boy’s lips. “We’ve lived different lives, I guess.”

Liam’s about to say something snappy about him being a spoiled college kid, when he remembers about his parents.  _How do you stay such an irritatingly positive person after losing your parents as a kid? That doesn’t even make sense._

“I guess.” Liam chews his tongue, trying to think of something to say. Brett seems oddly at ease with silence, but Liam’s never liked it much. It makes him jumpy.

“Tell me more about Scott.” Brett says and Liam reminds himself that he should be used to surprises from this guy by now. “He sounds like a cool guy.”

“He was . . .” Liam purses his lips. “He tried to get me to talk to Mason again, he was my, uh, my friend who was gay that Garrett told me to ditch.”

“Did you? Talk to him again?”

“No.” Liam shakes his head, regretfully. “I should’ve, but I let Garrett convince me not to. He said I needed to focus all my attention on Hayden, my girlfriend,” He clarifies, “she . . . she was . . . a lot to handle.”

“I can imagine.” Brett chuckles. “They could still be alive, y’know.” Brett doesn’t place too much emotion into the words. “You’re talking like they’re all dead, but you don’t know that.”

“They might as well be.” He mutters. “Not much of a world to live in anymore.”

“Still worth living, kid.”

_I’m not so sure I believe you._

“Anyway,” Liam tries to lighten his tone. “Scott was a really good guy. We’d go to lacrosse practice together, with his friend Stiles and Garrett. I got to be pretty good at it too; Stiles never did.” Liam thinks about the sarcastic ass-hat who couldn’t say three words to him without two of them being some form of insult. Despite that, Liam knows Stiles had cared for him. “He had a group of friends that were all pretty tight. He kind of let me into that . . .”

“Was nice right?”

“Yeah.” Liam breathes.  _I should’ve stayed with them._

“After my parents died, me and my sister were in foster care for a bit. It sucked, we got split up a couple times, but after a few years we were taken in by this old Japanese woman, Satomi. She was the best thing that ever happened to us. She filed to adopt us and we finally had a home. It was . . . strange, at first.”

“Sounds like you loved her.” Liam observes, examining the fond look on Brett’s face.

“I still do.” Brett nods. “I plan to find her one day, my sister too. You can’t give up hope on your people, Liam.”

“My parents are dead.” Liam snaps, not even meaning too. Brett’s expression doesn’t change, he just continues to look at Liam, open and listening.  _Not like I have anything to lose, except my dignity anyway._

“My mom and stepdad went out to get food before things got really bad . . . a few hours later, Scott showed up at the front door, telling me I had to go with him. I didn’t know what was going on, but I went anyway and he brought me to the high school, where his friends and a bunch of other people had decided to stay – safety in numbers and all that. He didn’t tell me until I was inside that my parents were killed in a riot, not even by the corpses, just by other people . . .”

“I’m sorry, Liam.” Brett’s hand moves into the air, but he hesitates and drops it back to his side.

_He thinks you’re a fragile child._  Liam bumps his shoulder against the back of Brett’s arm, hoping his message gets across. “No big deal. You lost your parents too. We’re both orphans.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s not a big deal.” Brett sounds thoughtful. “Just that we have something in common. Good thing too, because your music taste definitely needs some work.”

“Slipknot is so much better than all that pop crap!” Liam defends, vehemently.

“You’ve obviously never had a good T-Swift jam session. No?” He glances at Liam’s exasperated stare. “Biebs? C’mon, what about Nicki, she’s not even really pop.”

“I will kill you.”

“You’re seriously deprived, man.” Brett laughs again and Liam can’t help but watch the way his eyes crinkle.

Liam’s been discreetly looking at him for a while now – every time Brett turns to check out their surroundings. He’s come to the conclusion that Brett isn’t perfect. His ears are kind of big and stick out, his height mostly comes from how lanky his legs are, he uses his entire body when he speaks, moving around and waving his hands like he’s on fire, and he laughs at a lot of things that aren’t really funny . . . not an impressive list sure, but Liam’s been adding to it with dedication.

“We’re almost there.” Liam observes.

“I know, made awesome time right?” Brett’s voice doesn’t betray what Liam knows must be at least a little apprehension. It’s not like getting Violet to go with them will be an easy thing . . .  _not after we tell her what I did._

“Yeah . . . what are we going to tell her exactly?”

Brett shrugs, rolling his shoulders. “It was your idea to come back. She’s not going to be easy, but we have plenty of time before sunset to carry her back to Allston.”

“I don’t think I can tell her what I did.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Liam.” Brett squints and shields his eyes against the sun. “You protected yourself. I know you’re hurting from losing him, but it’s not your fault. It’s his.”

“I should’ve talked to him first. I just ran in and tackled him . . . maybe if I’d just-”

“He might still be alive.” Brett nods. “But I wouldn’t be. He would’ve shot me and maybe you too.”

“He wouldn’t . . .” Liam’s words die off.  _He would have_. They both know that. The idealized version of Garrett that exists in his head is as fake as the real Garrett is dead. You _just don’t want to believe it._

“We’ll tell her the truth.” Brett says, seeing Liam’s indecision. “I can even talk if you want me too, but I think you know you’ll need to say  _something_  to her eventually. She’s your friend.”

“Not anymore.”

“Why don’t we wait until we hear what she has to say, before making that call?”

* * *

They never get the chance. Entering the apartment, Liam immediately senses something’s off. It looks exactly the way he’d left it . . . he can’t imagine Violet was able to get up and eat and then have the energy to clean up after herself.

“There’s no one here.” Brett confirms his fears, exiting the bedroom.

“Where could she have gone?” He’s starting to panic.  _If anything’s happened to her, it’ll be my fault_.  _I left her, I didn’t let Brett stop here yesterday, and I killed Garrett._

“She took all the bandages and medical supplies.” Brett says, rummaging around in the kitchen. “Looks like she took a lot of things actually.”

Liam enters the bedroom and pulls open the top drawer on the dresser. “Garrett’s clothes are gone . . . does she think he’s out there? Why would she pack everything up and leave?”

“Liam . . .” He knows immediately by Brett’s voice that it’s going to be bad. “She wouldn’t have been able to carry all of these things on her own, not in her condition. Someone else was here.”

_Someone. Someone else was in the apartment. Someone found Violet._

“They didn’t kill her.” Brett adds, clinically, but Liam can tell he’s trying to gauge his reaction. “They wouldn’t have taken her body with them and there’s no blood. No sign of a struggle either, actually. She wasn’t in fighting condition, but you said she was conscious. She would’ve put up some resistance if she’d been in danger.”

“So what? She was raptured?” Liam tries to keep the venom out of his voice.  _This is my fault, not his._

“Hopefully, but seriously, whoever came for her was either charming enough to convince her to go peacefully or it was someone she already knew.”

“Maybe they snuck up on her.” Liam points out the obvious.

“I don’t think it’d be easy to sneak up on that girl. I mean, you know her better, but she has the eyes of a hawk. Noticed I was awake before I even opened my eyes.”

That’s true. Violet’s always been perceptive. She’d saved their lives on more than a few occasions by noticing that things were off, not to mention she was almost as paranoid as Garrett sometimes – always on the lookout for some type of threat.

“We should go after her.”

“We wouldn’t even know where to start.” Brett shoots his idea down. “I’m sorry, but we’re too close to Fenway for comfort. Not to mention that this area is crawling with biters. I’m not going to let you get yourself killed, running around the city looking for one person.”

“What if they took her?” Liam’s stomach turns.

“They might have.” Brett acknowledges. “But if that’s the case then there’s nothing we can do. Trust me, Liam. There’s only one way inside that place and no way out.”

“We can’t just leave her.” He knows it’s futile. There’s nothing they can do – and Liam hates to admit it, but he’s actually relieved.  _I won’t have to tell her. She won’t find out what I did._

“I’m sorry.” Brett’s hand finds his shoulder, gently, testing to see his reaction.

Liam takes a steadying breath. “It’s okay.” He turns to look at the large hand on his shoulder. “It’s probably better this way. Maybe it wasn’t even them.”

“Yeah, maybe.” But Liam can hear in his voice that he doesn’t believe it.

Suddenly, Brett’s arms are wrapped around Liam and he’s being squeezed into a hug. He doesn’t even feel them coming but there’s tears leaking from his eyes and a second later he’s burying his face into Brett’s shirt.

Brett makes soothing sounds and rubs his back, “It’s okay, Liam. It’s going to be okay.”

His hands ball up in the edge of Brett’s coat and he lets everything flood out.  _Garrett, Scott, dad, mom, Violet . . . I failed all of you. You’re all gone, because I didn’t protect any of you. Because I can’t protect anyone._

“Liam.” Brett’s hands rub up and down his shoulders a few minutes later – after waiting long enough for most of his tears to dry up. “I promise you’re going to be okay, alright?” He leans back, trying to get Liam to look him in the eyes, but the smaller boy refuses.

_Why am I crying right now? Why am I crying in front of him?_

“Fuck.” He rubs at his eyes with the back of his hand, trying to get himself under control. “I’m such a bitch.”

“You kidding me?” Brett’s still looking at him, holding onto his arms. “I’ve known you a few days and I can already tell you’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever met. Not very many people can survive the things you’ve been through.”

“Maybe I can’t either.” He says, softly.

“No.” Brett shakes his head, “I don’t believe that- look at me; you’re strong, Liam.”

“I’m crying in the arms of some guy I barely know.” Liam points out, dryly.  _At least I’ve got my voice under control._

“We all cry sometimes. Even before all this shit happened, everyone needs to let it out every once in awhile. I’m not judging you.”

“Maybe you should.” Liam tries for a smile, but it’s a failed attempt.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Brett squeezes him, before releasing his hold. “C’mon, let’s get back to Allston. We can open up another can of beans and I’ve got some beef jerky stashed away.”

“Could we . . . look around for a bit?” Liam suggests, not trying to sound so uncertain. “I want to grab some of my things, if they’re still here.”

“Go ahead.” Brett nods, “I’ll scope out the kitchen. Make sure there’s nothing I missed.”

“Thanks.”

Liam opens each drawer in turn, finding them all empty.  _She took all of her own and Garrett’s clothes._  He sees his duffel bag in the corner and immediately goes over to it, dropping to his knees to fumble with the zipper.

It’s still full.

_If it were the people from Fenway, why would they take Garrett’s clothes but not mine? If I’m too small for any of them, then he would be too. Something’s up._ But he elects not to mention it to Brett. _It doesn’t matter. Maybe she found some friendly people._

Most of the clothes he has are covered in blood and dirt, but there’s a few things he wants to take. Definitely his old Metallica shirt, he also grabs the System of a Down shirt his mom bought him, and then the four pictures he’d managed to save – one of him and his mom when he was younger, another a group picture with him and all of Scott’s friends, the third of his mom and stepdad smiling at each other, and the final one a selfie with his, Garrett’s, and Violet’s faces all squeezed in.

He doesn’t realize how long he’s been staring at the pictures until Brett’s at his side.

“Nothing left out there. You ready?”

“Yeah.” Liam nods, slipping the pictures into a tattered envelope and handing it to Brett, along with the two shirts for him to stash in the bag.

“Wait, what’s this?” Brett bends over and pulls Liam’s maroon lacrosse jersey from the bag.

“Just my old jersey. I don’t need it.”

“You should keep it.” Brett shakes it out and holds it up. “To remember Scott and your other friends. You smiled a lot when you talked about lacrosse, besides,” He lowers it in front of Liam’s chest, “It’d look good on you.”

Liam ignores his blush, grabbing the shirt from him. “Fine.”

“Give it here.” Brett holds out the bag and Liam drops it in.

“That’s it.” He says. “There’s nothing left here for me.”

“Alright, we better hit the road then. We should actually still have time to get to Cambridge, if we hurry.”

* * *

They don’t have time. They would have if Liam hadn’t been adamant that Brett stop at a convenience store to raid the candy aisle.

Most of it is already expired, but that doesn’t stop Liam from grabbing as much Swedish Fish, Sour Patch, or Gummy Worms as he can.

“It’s candy.” He defends. “Expiration dates don’t matter.”

“Whatever you say.” Brett smirks. “But I’d avoid the chocolate if I were you. Unfortunately, I lost the Imodium so if you get diarrhea you’re on your own.”

Liam slowly puts the Hershey’s bar back.

“I thought so.” Brett laughs, holding open the bag for Liam to dump his findings in. “You’re going to get fat. And I’m not so sure I’ll be able to carry you, you’re already pretty heavy for your size.”

“Fuck you.”

“Relax.” Brett puts the bag back on. “It’s muscle . . . mostly.”

Liam’s fist almost connects with his arm, but Brett’s quick, dipping out of the way just in time.

“Touchy.” He laughs, holding his fists up and throwing two mock blows at Liam.

“You’r-” Liam falters.  _That’s a zombie._ It’s rounding the corner just as Brett’s backing out of the aisle, still pretend boxing.

“What’s the matter?” Brett’s smile fades and he turns, but not in time.

_He’s dead._

Liam’s body moves without his permission, barreling into Brett and knocking him out of the way. He hears metal racks collapsing, but can’t see anything past the bared brown teeth and snapping jaws of the rotting corpse on top of him.

He’s trying to push it off, but it’s not as decayed as some of the others he’s encountered and it has enough muscle to resist him. He’s got one hand on its shoulder and one around its clammy neck, trying to force it off, but that doesn’t leave him anything to defend himself with. There’s no way he can reach the gun at his side.

He can almost feel the things teeth on his skin as it snaps forward again, snarling at him.   

“Liam!” Brett calls out, and a second later Liam’s covered in rotting ichor.

The zombies head falls to the ground beside him and Liam pushes the body off with a shudder, pulling himself to a sitting position.

“Are you?” Brett’s hands don’t seek his permission this time – and that irritates him a little, but he doesn’t fight back. Brett’s on his knees next to Liam, running his hands up and down his neck and shoulders, looking for any sign that he’s been bitten.

“I don’t think so.” Liam steadies his nerves. “No.”

Brett sits back, looking relieved and apologetic. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have been fucking around. I know better than that. Liam . . .”

“It’s fine.” He says, curtly. He’s not mad at Brett, not really. He’s mad at everything else. “Look,” He wipes the black goo from his neck, “Not my blood. Hopefully, anyway.”

Brett smiles at that and Liam feels accomplished.  _I did that._

“Thanks.” He says, reaching a hand up. “For saving me.” Brett grabs his hand and pulls him to his feet.

“Same here.”

The two boys look at each other for a long moment, before Liam breaks eye contact to look down at his shirt.

“So much for my clean new shirt.”

“Yeah,” Brett chews at his lip. “Sorry ‘bout that. A machete’s not so good at clean kills.”

“Better the shirt than me, besides it kind of looks more badass now.”

“Whatever you say, kid.” Brett chuckles, gesturing for Liam to follow him.

They get back to Allston before the sun begins to set, but Liam knows that there isn’t quite enough time for a trip across the river to be a good idea. Especially when he’s covered in putrid sludge, a smell that he’s beginning to get used to – and that’s the part that almost makes him vomit.

“Wait here.” Brett climbs up into the house, returning a moment later with a bucket of water and a washcloth. “Use this to clean off.”

Liam takes them, then looks back up at Brett. He’s just sitting on the porch railing, watching Liam calmly.

“You just gonna stand there and watch?” He asks in annoyance.

“I gotta make sure nothing sneaks up on you.” Brett purses his lips and shrugs. “Besides, you don’t need to get naked – though don’t let me stop you.” He grins at the red in Liam’s face. “I won’t even look at you, but I do want to make sure nothing’s lurking around.”

“Whatever you say, pervert.” Liam shucks off his shirt and tosses it up onto the porch, Brett catches it effortlessly. He can hear the older boy shaking it out and trying to get the blood off, while he himself gets to work at scrubbing his skin clean of the repulsive muck.

The water’s cold and he has to pretend like he doesn’t notice Brett glancing at him every few seconds, while he tries to get clean.  _So much for not looking at me._ Liam’s not too upset about it, Brett probably wishes he had as much muscle as he does.

“Let me know if you need any help.” Brett calls and Liam doesn’t even look at him, knowing he’d find him giggling like a little girl.

Once he’s clean the two of them head back into the house for the night.

“Let me see the bag.” Liam nods at Brett’s backpack.

“Aw, I was hoping you’d keep showing off the guns.” Brett’s smile is teasing in a way that makes Liam’s heart do a flip.

“Funny.” Liam snatches it from his offering hands. “Anyone ever tell you that you come across as kind of a flirt?”

“All the time, actually.” Brett nods as Liam slides his Metallica t-shirt on.

“You ever think about maybe being less flirty?” He questions, taking a seat on the edge of the mattress.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Whatever.” He accepts the can that Brett offers to him, pushing over so that the freakishly tall boy can sit next to him. He’ll never understand how Brett can fold his huge frame down onto the floor like a normal person.  _Must be witchcraft._

They eat mostly in silence, besides the comments Brett insists on making about Liam’s eating habits.

“Maybe try actually chewing, instead of you know, just swallowing your food whole.” He gives Liam a playful look. “Or, maybe, finish the food that’s in your mouth before you go for more.”

“I am chewing.” Liam grumbles.

“Oh no, that I can see, all too well actually.”

“Fuck you.”

“I’m almost afraid to offer, but . . .” Brett produces a bag of beef jerky, which Liam immediately tears into.

“I think I’m in love with you.” He tells the older boy, laughing at the way he shakes his head in amusement.

They finish eating and Liam lets out a roaring burp.

“You’re an animal, dude.” Brett lays back on the mattress, stretching his arms and legs out.

Liam eyes the way his shirt rides up his stomach, revealing a slight trail of hair on the smooth, tan skin.

_Get a grip, Liam._

“You tired?” Brett yawns.

“A little.”

“Let’s get some sleep. We’ll leave for Cambridge tomorrow morning.”

“Can I . . ?” Liam doesn’t know how to phrase his words. “I mean, would it be okay . . ?”

“I can’t mind read, dude.” Brett sits up.

“Is it alright if I get the outside?” He asks, trying not to meet Brett’s eyes.

“Yeah, sure.” The older boy shifts over to the wall, giving Liam space.

“I just . . .”

“You don’t need to explain yourself.” Brett leans down to unlace his shoes, before kicking them off. “You want the outside? You got it.”

“Thanks.” Liam mumbles, taking off his own boots.

_You can tell yourself it’s in case you need to run all you want, but you’re lying. You want to protect him. You want anyone or anything to have to go through you to get to him. You don’t want to lose him. But you will. Eventually._

“Night.” Brett says, rolling to face the wall and pulling the thin blanket around his shoulders.

“What’s your sister’s name?” Liam questions, pretending not to notice that they’d just agreed to go to sleep.

“Lori.” Brett says, without rolling back over. “Why?”

“Just asking.” Liam’s completely aware of how close they are; only an inch or so between his front and Brett’s back.

“You don’t have any siblings?”

“No, none.” Liam bites at the inside of his lip. “I always wanted one though. Scott was kind of like a brother to me.”

“I’d do anything for my sister.” Brett says, absentmindedly, letting out a louder yawn, which Liam takes to mean that he wants to sleep now.

He doesn’t let him. “So how come you’re still here? Not going back home to find her?”

Brett’s silent and Liam thinks that he’s chosen to ignore the question until he mumbles, “I still have some business to take care of here. I promised not to leave the city until I get it done.”

“Anything I can help with?” Liam asks, wanting Brett to keep talking. He likes the sound of his voice, even if it is usually making fun of him.

“No.” Brett gives a shake of his head, into the mattress. “It’s kind of something I need to do on my own.”

“We can’t go to Cambridge then.” Liam points out. “You said it’s across the river, outside of the city.”

“It is.”

“So don’t break your promise. Let’s wrap up your business first, then we can go.”  _Maybe we could go back home. Find my friends and your sister, if any of them are still alive._

“It’s not that simple, kid.”

Liam’s starting to get more and more irritated each time that Brett calls him ‘kid’. Sure he’s a lot younger, but that doesn’t give Brett the right to pretend like he doesn’t know anything.

“You want to kill your girlfriend’s zombie.” He says, trying to prove a point. “Sounds simple to me.”

Brett doesn’t ask how he knows and that’s how Liam knows he’s right.

“I’ve tried finding her. She was bit at the chapel and it’s too close to Fenway for me to go searching very often.”

“Maybe  _they_  already did it.” Liam suggests, gently.

“No . . . they don’t kill the biters. Not usually anyway, not if they don’t have to. They catch them sometimes. I don’t know what they do after that, but it can’t be anything good.”

“What if they have her?”

“I’ll have to wait longer to leave this place . . . She was a nice girl, the only person outside of Satomi and my sister that ever really cared about me. I won’t leave her like that forever, I need to put her soul to rest.”

Liam doesn’t know anything about souls, but he can understand not wanting to leave a loved one like that. If his mom and stepdad had been bitten instead of murdered, he wouldn’t have left Beacon Hills until they were dead for real. He wouldn’t leave a loved one like that . . .

“I should-”

“There wasn’t enough left of him.” Brett cuts him off – apparently able to read minds now. “I’m sorry, Liam. He wasn’t bitten, he was eaten. He’s gone.”

Liam surprises himself by keeping calm. “That’s probably best. I don’t know if I could’ve done it.”  _How can I have killed him, but not know if I could put him to rest? What is wrong with me?_

“It’s a hard thing to do.”

“If you . . . if you can’t do it, either . . . you know? I’d do it- if you wanted me to.” Liam finishes in a rush, holding his breath and waiting for Brett to push him away.

The other boy lifts his head and rolls onto his other side, facing Liam.

“Thanks.” He looks kind of sad. It’s not a look that Liam likes on him. “But I need to do it. I do appreciate the offer though.”

Liam nods his head slowly. “If . . . if by any chance that he, uh, that he’s not,”

“I’ll do it for you.” Brett swears. “Promise.”

“Thanks.” Liam looks into the older boy’s eyes and suddenly feels a lot smaller than usual. “I promise I’ll help you find her. I won’t leave until you uh, put her soul to rest.” The phrase feels awkward on his tongue, but he forces it through. Then he rolls over, before Brett has a chance to respond.

A minute later he hears the older boy shifting and figures he’s going to sleep. He freezes when Brett’s arm snakes around his waist and pulls him back against his chest.

“Is this okay?” Brett asks, resting his chin on top of Liam’s head.

“Y-yeah.” Liam nods, doing his best to keep the heat in his face from spreading anywhere further south.

“You sure?” Brett asks, his tone letting Liam know that all he needs to do is say no and he’ll back off. “I’m a cuddler, but you don’t have to humor me. I’m not going to pretend like Slipknot is anything but loud screaming for you.”

Liam smiles. “Fuck you . . . it’s fine.”  _It’s nice._

It’s the kind of attention Liam’s always craved, but never gotten and if Brett doesn’t stop soon he’s not going to be able to help but become attached. He’s already tall, handsome, nice, and capable; if he starts paying Liam too much attention he knows that he’ll catch some pretty serious feelings.

“Good.” Brett tightens his grip on Liam’s waste.

_It won’t last long_ , he tells himself.  _We’ll run into some single girl soon and everything will change. He’s only paying attention to you because there isn’t anyone else around. He’s not going to want to cuddle with you once there’s more options. Prettier options that have long hair and probably smell a hell of a lot better than you._

_Maybe we’ll never run into other people again._ That’s actually a much worse thought and Liam banishes it.

_Soon_. They’ll find more people soon, Brett will move onto some equally model-qualified girl, and then Liam can go back to being alone and comfortable.

“Goodnight, Liam.” Brett’s breath traces down Liam’s face and he has to fight back a shiver.

“Night, Brett.”

He’ll deal with whatever happens later on, but for now it’s at least nice to have someone’s arms around him at night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright so there's way too much in this chapter for me to go over right now, but it was absolutely my favorite so far. There was so much fluffy awkward shit and the boys getting along and I want to melt a little bit, but yeah . . . let me know what you guys think!!


	6. Follow the Writing on the Wall

**Brett’s POV**

“If you don’t get your cold hands off of me, I’m going to make you eat them.”

“You’re really not a morning person are you?” Brett mumbles, releasing Liam and rolling onto his back.

“What I’m not is your personal heater.” Liam grumbles.

“Not my fault. I’m tall.” Brett rubs at his eyes and yawns, loudly. “Bad circulation. You’re lucky you don’t have that problem. You’re so little, you have more than enough blood to keep you warm.”

“No, you can’t have any.” Liam throws an elbow backwards, but Brett catches it.

It’s been a little over a week since they discovered Violet’s disappearance and came back to Allston . . . and they’re still in Allston. Brett’s tried on multiple occasions to get them moving on to Cambridge, but Liam would always come up with a new reason why it wasn’t the right time.

_“I think I’m dying.”_  He’d clutched his stomach yesterday afternoon, right before they were supposed to leave.  _“I’m serious! Fuck . . . I shouldn’t have eaten all that candy.”_

_“I could’ve told you that. In fact, I did tell you that.”_

_“Shut up, just help me back inside.”_

And Brett had done so, helping Liam back into the house and sitting by his side while he faked a stomach bug.

_He’s been keeping me to my promise._

“Wouldn’t want your blood anyway.” Brett shoves Liam’s arm back. “Probably burns like acid.”

“I’m hungry.” Liam ignores him, sitting up and pushing the blanket away.

“What a surprise.” Brett watches the smaller boy stumble to his feet and mutter something about Brett being a jackass under his breath. “Keep talking like that and I won’t help you find more beef jerky.”

Liam immediately shoots him an apologetic glance and Brett laughs – mostly because he knows that Liam’s change of tune is genuine. 90% of the time Liam’s opinions are shaped by his stomach.

“We’re almost out of everything, again.” Brett calls. He can hear Liam rummaging through empty cans. “You should probably clean up a bit while you’re over there too.”

He knows he won’t, but being the adult in the house is a 24/7 job.

“We should go out for more food today.” Liam says, coming back toward Brett with a pack of crackers and a few pieces of beef jerky.

“Thanks.” Brett accepts some jerky and a handful of crackers as Liam sits on the floor in front of the mattress and crosses his legs. “But we could just go to Cambridge today. It’s a short trip and there’s plenty of food there.” He bites into one of the pieces of dried meat.

“Bad idea.” Liam says through a mouthful of crackers. “I saw a decent amount of corpses moving that way yesterday, when we split during the scout. Probably looking for nice, tall meal.”

_He’s lying to me. Again._

“Mhm.” Brett hums, then eats a cracker. “Fine, we’ll go out, but you can just say you like living in squalor, you know.”

Liam’s eyes narrow. “What?”

“Squalor.” Brett repeats. “It means this,” He gestures to the room, which is growing progressively dirtier with each day.

“English, asshole.” Liam takes the piece of jerky that Brett hands back to him. He’s not all that hungry this morning. He’s starting to think that watching Liam’s appetite is killing his own.

Brett climbs to his feet and reaches back to grab the neck of his shirt, pulling it over his head and tossing the dirty material to the floor.  _Liam’s not the only reason this place is getting filthy,_  he reminds himself to pick up the shirt later.

“You have a tattoo.” Liam’s voice catches him off guard.

“What? Yeah, I’ve got six.” Brett lifts his arm to show off the tattoo on his right side, beginning just above his hip and running vertically along his ribs almost all the way to his armpit. “This was my first.”

“You believe in all that garbage?” Liam eats another cracker.

Brett looks down at the word ‘Gemini’ written in an elegant cursive script along his side.

“Got it when I was young, but it looks nice.” He smooths a hand down his side, over the black letters, before looking back at Liam with an arched brow. “Dude, is this the first time you’ve noticed my tattoos. We’ve lived together for like two weeks.”

Liam gets defensive; his face turns red and he mutters, “I saw the Chinese one on your wrist, but it’s not like I look at you while you’re changing.”

Brett’s insides warm at Liam’s fluster. “You looked today.” He points out, grinning from ear to ear.

“I-” Liam hesitates and Brett can see that his mild irritated blush is starting to turn a deeper shade of crimson.

“Relax.” He holds up his hands, hoping to stifle Liam’s anger before it gets out of hand. “I was joking. It’s cool, wanna see the others?”

“No.”

Brett knows that he does, but he doesn’t want to embarrass him anymore. Not when he’s like this. He’s been doing his best lately to try and avoid Liam’s anger – not an easy thing to do, considering how much he enjoys teasing the kid.

“Alright, I can show you later if you want.” Brett pulls on a – relatively – clean shirt.

_He’s cute when he’s mad,_ Brett thinks, not bothering to hide that fact that he’s sizing up the pint-sized ball of rage.  _Though he might be cuter if he wasn’t death glaring me right now._

“So what’re you?” He asks, casually.

“What?” Liam stuffs another piece of jerky into his mouth.

“Your sign.” Brett pushes, rolling his eyes at the look Liam gives him. “C’mon, even if you don’t like it, you know your sign. Everyone does.”

Liam mumbles something around his food.

“One more time.” Brett prods, picking up his empty backpack and packing some water and crackers away.

“Cancer.” Liam doesn’t sound happy.

“No shit? It’s already July.” Brett turns to look at him. “When’s your birthday?”

“The seventh.”

“That’s tomorrow, Liam.”

“I know.”

“Well, why the hell didn’t you tell me? We could’ve figured something out.” Brett pulls the bag shut.

“You wanna take me to Vegas?” He asks, doubtfully.

“Maybe if you’d told me sooner.” Brett laughs and walks over to sit beside him. “You’re gonna be seventeen right?”

“Yeah.”

“My little boy’s growing up.” Brett pretends to wipe a tear from his eye.

“Shut up.” Liam finishes his food and sits up a little straighter, his hands massaging over his knees.

“So, if we aren’t going to Cambridge today.” He levels a dry look at Liam. “We’ll check out that convenience store you mentioned the other day. We’re going to have to expand our searches out further though, we’re burning through food and water too quickly to keep local.”

“Sorry.” Liam doesn’t look apologetic.

“Not your fault, you’re a growing boy, remember?” Brett smiles, thinking to himself that Liam’s actually probably done growing – but that’s not something he plans on saying aloud. Not if he wants to keep all of his teeth. “Plus, it’ll be good to get out on longer scouts, this place is really starting to stink.”

“Don’t look at me. You reek.” Liam laughs, rolling out of the way before Brett can swat at him.

“Says the teenager who smells like a dog.” Brett stands back up. “Ready to head out?”

Liam reaches a hand up and Brett pulls him to his feet.

“Always, ready.”

* * *

**Liam’s POV**

Liam’s come to the conclusion that Brett’s the most frustrating person he’s ever met in his entire life – and that’s including Stiles.

“It was a joke.” Brett complains.

“You’re not good at those.” Liam reminds him, pointedly. “Besides, I’m sixteen, what do you expect?”

“Oh, I dunno, maybe for you not to act like you’re a caveman. It’d be cool if you had your own place, but you are crashing with me, remember?” Brett looks at him critically, but Liam can see there’s no animosity in his expression.

“Fine, I’ll move out.”

“You think I’m gonna let you get yourself eaten after the amount of times I pulled your ass from the fire?” Brett smiles fondly at him. “Nope, sorry kid, you’re stuck with me . . . but seriously, at least try to pick up your shit. I almost stepped on your poor excuse of a knife last night.”

“Wouldn’t be much of a ‘poor excuse’ if it’d sliced you open, now would it?”

“Guess not.” Brett breathes, placing a hand on Liam’s chest to halt his pace.

Liam tries not to flinch at the contact. For the most part – outside of when they’re sleeping and Liam had given his permission – Brett refrains from touching him, but Liam knows that it’s not always an option when they’re outside and Brett needs to communicate silently. He still appreciates the effort that Brett’s been making, he’s obviously a touchy person.

“Eight. We can probably take them.” Brett’s voice is barely above a whisper, as he peers around a corner. “Still . . . let’s loop around the other way. You said the store’s only a few more blocks that way, right?”

“Yeah.” Liam nods, a little relieved that they’re avoiding the corpses. His only weapons are Brett’s gun and the knife, which always leaves Brett to clear out the zombies on his own – unless he’s backed into a corner, in which case they’ve agreed Liam is allowed to blow out zombie brains.

He glances around the corner before they leave. He knows Brett would have seen her if she were in this group, but he always checks. Not that he’s ever actually seen Brett’s girlfriend – Cora, he reminds himself – or even a picture of her, but he did get Brett to describe her to him the other night.

_“She was beautiful.”_ _Brett’s big smile seemed even larger in the fading light. “She had these big brown eyes that always turned me to mush, either from being in love or being terrified of her, it depended on the day. But you always knew, just from her eyes, whether she was about to chew you out or kiss you.” Liam had stared at him, watching Brett get lost in his memories and wished that he’d had someone like that in his life. Someone who he’d loved with everything he had and who loved him back. But then Brett seemed to recall her death and Liam realized he’d been lucky not to._

Liam’s been able to wiggle out a few more details from Brett since then and promptly added them all to his growing list of signs to look out for. He won’t be able to tell eye color after this many months, maybe even her hair’s fallen out, and he certainly doesn’t plan on getting close enough to tell if she has “perfect full lips”, but he’d kept track of the more useful details.

She’d been wearing Brett’s red Boston University sweatshirt when she got bitten and since zombies don’t tend to go shopping or change clothes very often, she’d still be wearing it. She was a little shorter than Liam himself, and she was bitten on the left side of her neck . . . it isn’t much to go on, but Liam’s not letting Brett leave Boston until his promise is kept. And he  _really_  wants to leave Boston.  _Seriously, this place sucks._

It takes them awhile to find a zombie free route to the store and then even longer to scrounge up enough dried meat, canned goods, and water to last them a few more days – maybe a week?

“We should stop by that T.J. Maxx again and pick up another backpack.” Liam lifts the heavy bag up and holds the drawstrings open so that Brett can slide his arms through. “Maybe a real one, not this flimsy excuse.”

“I had a real one.” Brett murmurs and Liam remembers the purple bag he’d carried when he first met him. He’s never brought it up, but he did notice that Brett no longer carried it.  _He must have lost it when Garrett tried to kill him._

“Sorry.” Liam mumbles. He wants to offer to go back and get it, but he knows that’d be dangerous and he isn’t all that excited to revisit that place again.  _Ever_.

“Don’t worry about it.” But Liam can tell Brett’s in a sore mood now. He doesn’t have them often, but every once in a while he’ll get all sad and mopey and Liam will have to purposely embarrass himself until Brett starts making fun of him again.

“We should get home.” Liam tries for a smile.

“No.” Brett shakes his head and Liam can almost see some of the normal Brett squeeze back into him. “I was serious about you stinking and we can’t waste any more drinking water to get clean.”

“You have a better option?”

“I mean besides the loft, which has a running shower? One. But still, you should think about how awesome it would be to wake up on your birthday and be able to take a shower.” Brett sounds like the world’s greatest salesman and Liam has to fight hard to shake his head.  _It does sound good, though_. “Plan B is a reservoir, ‘bout two miles south of here.”

“A reservoir?”

“Yeah, like a little manmade lake. Cambridge is closer though.”

“Is the lake in Boston?”

“Technically, I guess.”

“Then let’s go.”

* * *

_It’s huge_ , Liam thinks when they arrive. He hasn’t seen this much water in a long time. At least not any that didn’t look more like polluted sludge than actual water . . . but this . . .

“Don’t drink it.” Brett warns, seeing his immediate intent. “It’s stagnant water and hasn’t been treated in a while.”

Liam feels disappointment wash over him. “Right . . . so is it safe to- what are you doing?”

Brett makes a face at him as he pulls off his boots and starts unbuckling his jeans. “Going for a swim. You too, let’s go.”

“You just said it wasn’t safe to drink, but you want to go swimming in it?” Liam averts his gaze as Brett shucks off his pants and shirt.

“Just don’t swallow any. C’mon, we don’t have all day. Don’t worry about biters, they can’t swim; don’t have the muscle for it.”

Liam looks away from the older boy and wills himself not to turn red. Brett’s right and he really does want to wash the dirt and grime off of himself, so he swallows his pride and slips his shirt off over his head.

The next thing he sees is Brett’s bare ass charging past him and cannonballing into the water.

_We need separate beds,_ Liam immediately thinks to himself, knowing that there’s no way he’ll be able to get that image out of his head; especially cuddled up right next to him on the tiny mattress they share.

Brett surfaces a minute later - shaking out his hair - and paddles out into the water. “You coming in?”

He notices that Brett’s purposefully looking the other way and is silently thankful for that. “Yeah, just a sec.” He quickly ditches the rest of his clothing next to Brett’s and hurries into the sun-warmed water.

“Make sure you get behind your ears.” Brett teases as he splashes at him.

Liam immediately splashes back. “You just said to make sure not to swallow any, ass.”

“Relax.” Brett backs away a bit. “I’m just playing.”

_He looks even better wet,_ his wavy hair curling in a way that made Liam want to run his fingers through it. His eyelashes looked even longer than normal and his lips _. . . red and damp._ Liam would need a lobotomy to get rid of that image _. Fuck._

It only takes them a few minutes to scrub clean, but Liam hesitates about getting out.

“Stay here.” Brett sure as hell doesn’t, striding confidently up onto the grass and snatching up his shirt – which he uses to dry himself off. Liam tries not to look, but he can’t really help it, it’s not like Brett’s even trying to hide his body at all.

_Yep. Perfect._ He’s not as skinny as Liam had first thought, showing off a fair amount of lean muscle and  _fuck_  . . . Liam’s going to need ten character witnesses and an alibi to explain himself in the morning.

“Where are you going?” He clears his throat, treading water.

“There’s a school over there, I’m gonna raid the store and find us some clean clothes. Maybe a towel if you’re lucky.” Brett turns to face him after pulling his underwear back on.

“Be careful.” Liam says, but Brett just picks up his weapon from the ground, winks at him, and walks away – boxer clad and wielding the machete.

It feels like Brett’s gone for an hour, leaving Liam to panic in the water.  _It doesn’t take this long to grab some clothes. I shouldn’t have let him go alone. Fuck, Liam._ He’s gone through a million scenarios of what could have possibly happened and is about to go looking for him, when Brett returns.

“Don’t look so upset to see me.” Brett says, now sporting some clean grey sweats.

“I thought you were dead.” Liam states, and even he can hear the tension in his voice.

“Well, I’m not.” Brett waves a white towel in the air. “Catch.”

Liam grabs it before it falls into the water and climbs up the little rocky shore of the reservoir - while Brett looks away, pretending to be interested in the grass.  _He’s fine. Calm down,_  Liam tells himself, trying to steady his shaking hands.

“Decent?” Brett asks a few seconds later, barely giving Liam enough time to hurriedly dry off and step back into his boxers.

“Yeah.” He accepts the black sweats that Brett hands over and pulls them on. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Brett looks him up and down. “Figured you wouldn’t wanna match, so I got you black. Fits with your attitude anyway.”

“Funny.” Liam shoves his feet back into his boots. “Ready to go home?”

“Yeah.”

* * *

**Brett’s POV**

“You look upset.” Brett observes.

“What? Oh- no, just . . .” Liam’s chewing at his lip, looking down at the pictures in his lap.

“Family?” Brett’s kneeling a few feet from Liam; cleaning his gun.

“Yeah.” Liam nods.

“Can I?” Brett sets aside what he’d been doing, slowly getting to his feet.

“Uh . . . yeah.” Liam sits up a little straighter as Brett takes a seat next to him on the floor.

“That your mom?”

“Mhm.”

“She’s beautiful.” Brett’s eyes are glued to the image of a woman pressing her lips to the side of a young Liam’s scrunched up face.  _He was even grumpy as a kid._

“Yeah.”

Brett moves cautiously, making sure Liam’s okay with it before he rests his arm around the teen’s shoulders. “She loved you more than anything.” He gives Liam’s shoulder a squeeze, “You can see it in her eyes.”

Liam doesn’t say anything, but Brett can feel him trying not to cry. He wants to tell him that it’s okay for him to let it out – he has every right to – but he doesn’t. He knows that Liam values his pride and doesn’t want to hurt that.

“Show me the others?” He speaks softly.

Liam hands them over and Brett stares at the man he assumes is Liam’s stepdad.  _He looks happy._ Completely in love with Liam’s mom, but who wouldn’t be? The next is of Liam, Garrett, and Violet all pressing their faces together to fit in the picture.  _He’s gotta be hurting when he sees this._

Brett moves on to the last a little quicker. It’s of Liam looking like an annoyed – but slightly smiling – puppy as an older boy holds him in a chokehold-hug and they’re surrounded by a group of other teenagers. He assumes the one hugging Liam is Scott and the goofy looking one has to be Stiles. He isn’t sure about the other two boys in the picture, but the beautiful, tanned girl in the cut off jean shorts, waving a beer bottle in the air is definitely Malia and that leaves the last girl . . .  _and it’s Lydia_.

Brett keeps his breathing steady. Liam’s Lydia . . . his sort-of-friend from back home . . . she’s  _Lydia-fucking-Martin._

“You alright?” Liam asks.

“Yeah, fine.” Brett quickly places the picture of Liam and his mom back on top. “It looks like a lot of people care about you.”

_How the fuck am I supposed to tell him about Lydia? Did he even know she went to school here? He said she flew back to school, but he’d have asked if he knew she was at BU, right?_

“I should have stayed with them.”

“It’s too late for should, Liam.” Brett forces his mind to focus on the task at hand.  _She’s gone anyway, no point in upsetting him._ “But you’re not tied down here. I want to find my sister one day . . . we can go back together.”

_It’s the least I can do._  Brett had already decided he can’t tell Liam about Peter, not after holding his tongue had cost Garrett his life and Liam his best friend.  _He’d never forgive me._

Liam shakes his head and says, “Thanks,” but Brett can hear the doubt in his voice.

They spend the next few hours picking through some of the food they’d picked up, plotting out different scouting routes and stores to hit on Brett’s map, and going over contingency plans in case they get split up.

“Tell me about your mom.” Liam doesn’t look up from the map.

“Satomi?”

“That would be the one, genius.”

Brett ignores his jab, instead conjuring up the woman who took him and his sister in and gave them a real family. “She’s a badass.” Brett smirks, remembering the look she’d give him if he did something he wasn’t supposed to. “Tough, but the only person to ever give me and Lor a fair shot.”

“How old were you when she adopted you?”

“Eleven.” Brett smiles, “We’d only been with her a few months, but she said she wasn’t running a boarding house and that if we were going to live with her, we’d have to become family. She’d raised a few older kids before, but they’d all moved out. I always thought that she liked having people around – even if she always badgered me about everything.”

“What’d she badger you about?” Liam smirks. “Bad grades? Drugs? Pregnant girlfriend?”

“All of the above.” Brett smiles at the look on Liam’s face. “Except the last one.”

“You did drugs?” He looks dumbfounded.

“Smoked a little weed.” Brett shrugs. “You’re telling me you’ve never tried it? You dealt pills for fuck’s sake, Liam.”

“I never did them!” His face is beginning to turn pink. “I’m not an idiot.”

“I only smoked.” Brett defends, but can’t help grinning at Liam’s expression. “The grades were what really got her on my case. Ran away a few times, but I always came back.”

“Sounds ungrateful.” Liam’s giving him a hard look, but Brett doesn’t let it bother him.

“It was.” He nods. “I was an angry kid, arrogant too, always mad at the world for what I’d been through.”

“So you weren’t always into all that bullshit Zen crap?”

Brett looks at him, sharply. “Satomi’s a Buddhist. She taught me and Lor how to control ourselves and get past our anger. If that’s the ‘bullshit Zen crap’ you mean then no, I wasn’t always like that.”

Liam’s mouth drops open and he stumbles for words. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t, I thought that-”

“You thought I was some pretentious college douchebag who picked up my morals from a philosophy class.” He nods.

“Well . . . yeah. I’m sorry, I didn’t know . . .”

Brett softens his expression. Liam can be an ass, but he doesn’t mean to be. It’s just a sore subject for Brett – one of the few that exist. Satomi had done more for him and Lori than anyone else, but some of the things she’d taught them always seemed to warrant every strangers two cents.

“It’s alright.” Brett smiles to show him that there’s no hard feelings. Liam’s earned a little leeway with him, especially for not hating him after Garrett’s death – though he’s still fairly certain he’ll come to his senses eventually and try to revenge-murder Brett in his sleep. Nevertheless, he’s grateful for Liam’s company. It’s been a while since he’s had another living person to talk to – and he isn’t all that bad, once you get to know him.

Sure, he’s messy and rude, grumpy 99% of the time, and he’s a huge pain in the ass, but he’s also helpful and funny and a lot squishier than his angry demeanor lets on. Not to mention that he’s not so bad to look at.

“I didn’t mean to . . .” Liam can’t seem to find the words he’s looking for.

“Liam, hey, I’m serious, it’s okay. I’m not going to hold it against you.”

“Still . . . I didn’t mean to like, insult your religion or anything.”

Brett laughs, “You’re talking like I’m a fucking monk. I’m far from it, it’s just how Satomi raised me and my sister and I picked up some useful things to keep my head clear.”

“Like what?” Liam looks at him, seemingly with genuine interest.

“Meditation,” He shrugs, “I was never very good at it though, can’t keep my mind focused on nothingness. But there’s all these little chants that help with that. I started to push it all away when I got here, but Cora . . . she answered my phone once - when Satomi called - and they talked for hours. I still don’t even know most of what they said, but what I do know is that daily couples meditation was non-negotiable after that.”

Liam stifles a laugh at that and Brett has no doubt he’s picturing him and Cora meditating while holding hands – and he wouldn’t be completely wrong on that, unfortunately.

“Shut up.” Brett bumps his shoulder. “Your family religious?”

“Not really.” Liam shakes his head. “Mom and my stepdad never brought it up, but I don’t think they ever went to church. I think it’s all garbage.” He immediately looks to Brett, fear that he’d offended him clear in his eyes.

“Most of it is.” Brett agrees. “Stop looking at me like you’re going to hurt my feelings, Liam. I’m not a flower.”

“I know,” Liam smiles at him – the smile that makes Brett breathe a little easier. “You’re a tree. A big ass tree.”

“Well this tree is tired. I’m headed to bed.” Brett gets to his feet and sheds his shirt. “You should get some sleep too; it’s a big day for you tomorrow.” He winks at the younger boy.

He can feel Liam’s eyes on him as he kicks off his shoes and stretches back onto the bed.

“You don’t mind, right?” He glances up at Liam and tries not to laugh when his eyes quickly dart away. “It’s hot and we’ve been together a while, I figured it isn’t that big a deal.” He rubs at his chest, fingers scratching his shoulder.

“No, I, no, that’s fine. I don’t care.”

He can see that Liam’s uneasy. “Liam, seriously, if you’re not cool with it, just tell me. I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable.”

“You’re just scrawny is all.” Liam impresses him with the quick way he’s recovered. “Don’t want you to freeze to death, ‘cause you didn’t cover up.”

“It’s almost ninety degrees, if I freeze you have my permission to eat me. Besides, I have you to keep me warm.”

In the growing darkness he can’t see it, but he knows that Liam’s face has gone bright red.

“Coming?” He slips under the blanket and holds it up for Liam.

“Yeah.” Liam pushes aside the maps on the counter to pull his boots off, before padding over to the mattress and climbing in beside Brett.

“Want anything for your birthday?” Brett asks, casually, as he stares up at the ceiling.

Liam must be thinking it over, because it takes him a while to answer.

“No.” He says, finally. “Anything I want is gone.”

Brett chews at his lip, nodding. Liam’s not wrong, it’s not like Brett can magically produce a cure or bring back his friends or family.  _I can bring him to Cambridge._

But Brett has a feeling that tricking Liam into following him there wouldn’t end well – and that’s assuming he could get Liam to cross the river without realizing what it was.  _I could tell him there’s another river in Boston._  It’s tempting.

_I’m not going to lie to him. Not more than I already have, I owe him that._  First Peter and now Lydia . . . Brett’s growing more certain every day that he and Liam were meant to meet.

_I have to find Cora._  The decision comes suddenly and surprises Brett, but he knows it’s something that needs to be done.  _Tomorrow. Tomorrow we’ll look – actually look for the first time since I watched those bastards capture that family . . ._

It’s one of Brett’s worst memories; watching three Fenway agents execute a father pointblank, before dragging away the screaming mother and children. He’d wanted to do something, but he couldn’t force his muscles to move. He’d been a coward, but he isn’t going to be a coward anymore.

_If I want to get Liam to Cambridge, to keep him safe, then I need to put Cora to rest._

“I’ll figure something out.” He sighs, rolling over to wrap an arm around Liam’s waist. He pulls the smaller boy back against him.

“Don’t spoil me.” Liam jokes, wriggling closer to Brett’s bare chest.

Brett smiles at the back of Liam’s head.  _He’s getting more comfortable with me_. Absentmindedly his eyes roam down to Liam’s ass, which looks ridiculously nice in the sweatpants. He’s silently thankful that he’s no longer a teenager and has better control over his libido, otherwise he’d have an awkward explanation to give.

“Night, Brett.”

“Night, Liam.”

* * *

**Liam’s POV**

“Rise and shine, birthday boy.”

“Wha?” Liam lifts his head, groggily. Brett looks blurry, but Liam can see the huge smile on his face clear as day.

He’s squatting down in front of the mattress, holding out a single blue and white birthday candle, it’s small flame flickering in the early light.

“Make a wish.” He waves the flame in front of Liam’s face.

“Get out of my face.” Liam grumbles, wiping at the drool on his mouth. “Too early for this shit.”

“I appreciate the morning grouchiness, but there’s hot wax melting on my fingers, so please blow out the damn candle.”

“Wimp.” Liam lifts his head and quickly blows out the small flame.

“Shit!” Brett huffs, wiping the wax off his fingers and dropping the candle. “Thanks . . . so what’d you wish for?”

“More sleep.” Liam drops his head back to the pillow.

“C’mon, it’s your birthday, you can’t just lay in bed all day.” Brett nudges his arm.

“It’s my birthday, so that’s exactly what I plan to do.”

Liam shuts his eyes, but he can feel Brett still watching him.

“Please let me sleep.” Brett doesn’t say anything in response, but Liam knows he hasn’t moved. “I’m going to kill you.” He sits up with a loud sigh.

“You’d miss me too much.” Brett ruffles his hair, fondly.

Liam looks him over. He’s still not wearing a goddamn shirt. It’d been even harder to sleep last night, with Brett half-naked and wrapped around him.  _It better not be an every night thing._

Though, he supposes there’s worse ways to go to sleep on his seventeenth birthday than in the arms of a smoking hot sasquatch.

“Help me up.” He holds out his hand, expecting Brett to pull him up. Instead, the tall boy hooks an arm around his waist and hoists him into the air, bridal style. “Do you want me to kill you?”

“Sorry.” Brett smiles at him and Liam has to force himself not to turn pink. He sets him down on his feet.

“What’re we even doing?” Liam rubs at his eyes. “We have plenty of food. We’re clean. We don’t need anything right now.”

Brett smooths a hand over the right side of Liam’s head, trying to flatten his bedhead. “Cambridge?”

Liam shoots him a dirty look.

“Worth a shot.” He sighs. “I was thinking about going a little further into the city. It’s your birthday though, so whatever you want, we’ll do.”

“We should go.” Liam jumps on the opportunity.  _We could find her. Today._

“Alright.” Brett nods, making steady eye contact. “But you need to be careful.” Liam returns his gaze, wanting to show that he’s listening. “I’m serious. This’ll be dangerous and you need to be ready for anything, and you need to be able to make quick decisions if you need to.”

“I’ve made it this far.” He points out.

“You have.” Brett agrees. “And you need to make it even farther, so that means caution. If something goes wrong, you follow the plan. Got it?”

“Got it.” Liam nods. They’d come up with dozens of emergency plans and they all involved a lot of running. “That goes for you too.”

Brett smiles. “Don’t worry about me, I can handle myself. Just watch my back . . . and don’t use the knife, I don’t want you to get that close to any biters if we get stuck. If you need to, just fire the gun and we’ll haul ass out.”

“Alright.” Liam looks away and stretches his arms out. “What’s for breakfast?”

Brett goes into the kitchen and throws him a bag of Swedish Fish. “Figured you’d just eat candy, seeing as it’s your birthday and you’re still a teenage boy.”

Liam’s mouth waters. Brett had banned him from eating anymore candy after he’d complained about his stomach the other day, but he’s really tired of beans and beef jerky –  _and_  he loves Swedish Fish.

“Go ahead.” Brett urges, “Rot your teeth out, kid.”

“That’s the plan.” Liam tears open the bag and shoves a few of the red gummy fish into his mouth.

“We should try to pick up some meds while we’re out today. There’s nothing here and with the way you eat, I’m pretty sure you’ll be sick by September.”

Liam’s retort is cut off by a mouthful of candy.

“Dude . . .”

* * *

**Brett’s POV**

_This is getting too dangerous_. Brett looks down at Liam – crouched down under the window next to him – then glances out said window.

“They’re gone.” He breathes, wiping the sweat from his brow.

“That was a big herd.” Liam’s voice shakes a bit and Brett can see that his fingers are clenched around the gun so tightly that his knuckles have turned white.

“We should go back, I knew this wasn’t a good idea.”

“We’re already here.” Liam looks terrified, but also determined. “I’m not leaving, not yet.” Brett doesn’t need him to fill in the rest.  _Not until we find her._

He hasn’t mentioned it, but it’s become a sort of unspoken agreement between the two of them to search for Cora every time they’re out. This would be their best chance at it.  _We’re only a few blocks from the chapel._

“Alright.” He nods, fingers tapping the hilt of the machete at his side. “But stay close.”

Brett leads them out of the small shop they’d took cover in upon hearing the ravenous snarling of the approaching horde.

They make slow time, moving extremely cautiously. Brett dispatches the few biters in their way, but only when there isn’t a way to avoid them altogether. Noise is their worst enemy right now.

“In there.” Brett gestures to a large pharmacy, across Comm Ave. “Follow me.”

He’s careful about being out in the open, but the two of them are able to duck across both streets and the T tracks without being detected.

“There’s a lot of them.” Liam’s voice is getting progressively shakier and Brett wants to turn back.  _We’re in too deep. But if we turn back now, I won’t risk bringing him here again. Still . . ._

He turns to Liam once they’re inside.

“Just say the word, Liam, and we’ll head home.” He reaches out, slowly, placing his hand on the kid’s shoulder. “I’m not r-”

“No.” Liam shakes his head. “I’m sorry. I should be used to this shit by now.”

“It’s not something you get used to.” Brett insists, squeezing the side of his neck. “I’m sure as fuck not. You just gotta keep it together.”

Liam nods. “I know. C’mon.”

This pharmacy’s not in very good shape and has clearly already been picked to pieces, but they’re able to find a few useful things. Liam strolls up to Brett, holding a bottle of aspirin in the air and grinning like he’s just won the lottery. That combined with some flu medicine and anti-bacterial ointment, leads Brett to say it’s been at least a moderately productive trip.

“Doesn’t look like there’s anything left here.” Liam notes, kicked at a collapsed shelf.

“Yeah . . .” Brett clicks his tongue. Then something catches his eye. “Wait. Hold up.” He leaves Liam near the front windows to vault over the counter and reach for the little orange bottle on the ground.

Flipping it over and blowing off some dust, he sees the word  _Lithium_  printed beneath the name of someone who’s probably long dead.  _“Lithium – it tasted really bad”_

“What is it?” Liam asks, walking towards him.

“Nothing.” Brett quickly puts the medication away in his bag. “Just some expired Tylenol.”

“Let’s get moving then.”

_Can’t be a coincidence. Still . . . it’s just a precaution,_  Brett assures himself.  _It’s not like we have an endless supply of it, but he might need it. Just in case._

“Go check the street, I’m gonna do a once-over, make sure we didn’t miss anything.”  _Maybe, I can find more. He’ll need a constant dose if he starts taking antipsychotics, right?_  Brett isn’t sure how often he’d need to take them, but if he does end up using them, he wants to have a decent supply.

“Whatever you say.” Liam takes off, leaving Brett to search through the other overlooked prescription medications.

_Looks like no one touched most of this stuff . . . not like any of it was useful to survivors anyway._

Most of the sick and elderly didn’t live long enough to even see the biters, dying off during the first wave of disease that spread around the globe. Those that did survive didn’t make it much further. It was a chaotic time and looting for meds was dangerous, so most of those that escaped disease and violence got hit by their lack of access to the pills they needed.

Brett recalls one of his professors dying in Cora’s arms, while having a seizure. She’d cradled him and gently hummed to him, trying to soothe him as he thrashed and foamed at the mouth.

_Liam doesn’t seem that bad._ Sure, Brett has seen him get pretty angry a few times, but he’s never lost control in the way that Garrett or Liam himself mentioned. He hasn’t tried to harm himself or Brett, he just gets moody sometimes and decides not to talk for the rest of the day. He always warms back up before night, though.

_Still, better safe than sorry._

He’s able to find another bottle after a few minutes of searching; under a different name, but after a quick check the dosages are the same. He adds it to the collection of medicine in his backpack, before heading out to find Liam.

But Liam’s gone. Brett feels his heart speed up and his stomach drop.

“Liam.” He calls, not loudly but hoping that he’s close enough to hear. Nothing. “Liam.” A little louder.

Then he sees movement around a corner, a few blocks down. A single jean-clad leg disappearing around the side of a building.

_Fuck_. Brett hurries after it.  _What the fuck is he doing?_

He breaks out into a sprint, trying to catch Liam before he gets himself into trouble. He hears a few biters picking up the sound of his feet pounding on the pavement, but brushes it aside.  _An entire herd just passed us, there won’t be another this close, just some stragglers._

“Liam.” He turns the corner and sees him, rushing down an alleyway.  _He’s getting too close to Fenway._  “Liam!” He’s been trying not to let his voice rise, but he needs to get his attention.

Brett sprints down the alley as Liam glances over his shoulder, but doesn’t stop.  _Is he running from me?_  The thought feels strange, but it could be true. Maybe Liam just wanted Brett to get him close to home so he could go and look for Violet?

_No._ Brett may not know Liam all that well, but in their short time together they’ve built up a kind of trust that Liam wouldn’t just throw away.  _He might, if he thought he could find his friend._

He doesn’t have the time to stop and consider why Liam’s fleeing him; he needs to catch him now, before he gets himself hurt.

He’s able to catch up, fairly quickly – the perks of chasing someone with short legs.

“Liam, hold up.” Brett huffs, keeping his breath even. “Just stop and talk to me.”

“No time.” Liam sounds winded, but he doesn’t seem upset that Brett’s caught up to him.

Liam makes it out of the alley first, but immediately throws his body backwards, slamming into Brett’s chest and knocking the wind out of him.

The pair collapse onto the hard asphalt and Liam presses them up into the side of a building.

“The fu-” Liam’s fingers clamp Brett’s mouth shut. He yells out a muffled protest and can taste the dirt and sweat from Liam’s hand. Gagging, he decides that he’s going to kill the kid later.

“Shut up.” Liam’s shaking and breathing heavily, but it’s his tone that really startles Brett. “Look.” He doesn’t move his hand from Brett’s mouth, but nods out into the street.

_I’m dreaming. I have to be . . . that can’t be . . ._

“It’s her, isn’t it?” Liam’s hand pulls away, slowly.

“Y-yeah.” Brett can hardly believe his eyes. Cora’s standing only a few yards from them, staggering through the street in Brett’s sweatshirt. “She’s . . . yeah. It’s her.”

Liam nods. “Do it.” His eyes find Brett’s and he looks younger than Brett’s ever seen. “Go ahead.”

“Liam, I . . .” Brett can’t find the words. He hasn’t expected to find her in a long time. He’d been certain he never would after months passed and there was no sign . . . but now.

_This is what you came out to do,_  he reminds himself,  _you came to find her . . . You did it- no, Liam did it._

“Don’t mention it.” He wipes sweat from his face, turning to look at Cora. “This is your chance.”

Brett’s eyes are glued to the corpse of what used to be his girlfriend. She hasn’t decomposed as much as Brett would have thought – her hair still in place and even her face still looking mostly firm, but those eyes . . . there was no mistaking the savagery in those eyes.

“I can do it.”

Brett can tell that Liam’s beginning to panic.

“No.” His own voice comes out remarkably calm. “I need to do it, just . . . just give me a minute. I need to think.”

“Brett, we don’t have time.” Liam eyes the small group of zombies that are starting to enter the alley from the other end, following after Brett.

“I know.” Brett watches the way she moves, like she’s got a broken leg, hobbling along the street in an aimless search for sustenance. It’s almost perverse, watching the walk that used to be so graceful that Brett was convinced she’d been descended from some obscure European royal line, now relegated to a hobble.

_Cora Hale,_  he thinks to himself.  _I love you. I’m sorry._

He moves to take a step forward, but freezes as a blaring siren rips through the air.

A second later a police cruiser barrels down the street, almost mowing over Cora’s corpse. She immediately turns to follow it as it comes around for a second lap, gathering a significant trail of biters in the process.

“What is that?” Liam backs into the alley, looking less concerned about the approaching group of zombies from their rear.

“Fenway.” Brett’s blood turns to ice. “They’re capturing them.”

“Here.” Liam tries to press the gun into his hand. “Shoot her and let’s go.”

“No.” Brett shakes his head and suppresses the bile that threatens to rise in his throat. “They’ll hear. We wouldn’t be able to escape.”

“It’s one car.” Liam nudges Brett’s hand with the cool metal of the pistol.

“There’s got to be more in the area. We need to go.” He turns and gives Liam a dark look. “Now.”

“You can’t just let them take her!” Liam’s voice ticks up an octave too high for Brett’s comfort.

“Shut up.” He snarls, pressing Liam back against a brick wall. “You think I want to? I have no choice. If I go for her now, they’ll catch us both. You really want to be a human guinea pig for whatever the fuck they have going on in there?”

The shock in Liam’s eyes makes Brett immediately regret his actions, but he knows that he did what he needed to. Liam might trust him a little less, he might be angry at him for getting physical, but he’d be alive.  _That’s what matters_.

“Okay.” Liam looks almost ferocious, shoving Brett away from him and dusting himself off. “Your loss, I guess.”

“Liam . . .” Brett shoots a wary glance out at the police car as it rounds back again, building up a sizeable herd in its wake.

“You wanted to leave, let’s leave.”

Brett meets his eyes, seeing the anger there and choosing not to acknowledge it. Not yet.

“Alright. C’mon.” He starts off toward the three biters that have been trying to flank them. He decapitates all three in rapid succession, before moving on, but halts when he doesn’t hear Liam’s footsteps behind him.

Snapping back the other way, he sees Liam out in the open, waving his arms and trying to get the attention of Cora away from the siren.

_No._  Brett rushes after him, but Liam’s finally got her attention and he’s got his knife out, slashing with it to keep her at a safe distance. It’s a technique that Brett specifically warned him against using – biters have no fear of being cut and all it really does is make your arm a tempting target and suck up valuable time you could use for a retreat.

Liam’s slowly withdrawing back into the alley, leading Cora with him, but she’s starting to move faster and he’s getting cocky. Brett recognizes the confident tilt of his chin as he dips in and out of her reach.

“Do it!” The younger boy shouts, pulling his arm back just in time as her teeth gnash.

Brett’s still too far away to do anything. Four feet. Only four feet and there’s nothing Brett can do as Cora rushes Liam and knocks him to the ground.

Her neck snaps forward and Brett feels his breathing stop completely.

Liam’s head rolls to the side at the very last second, barely escaping the snap of her rotting jaws.

That buys Brett the time he needs to close the distance and swing his machete.  _I’m sorry._  The blade catches her right under the chin and cleaves through her flesh with relative ease.

_Rest now, my love._

Liam scrambles out from under the decapitated body and Brett grabs him by the collar, yanking him up to his feet.

_Stupid kid._

Liam turns to him with a huge grin on his face, excitement in his eyes. “You did it.”

Brett doesn’t return any of his joy, his face set in grim lines. “We need to go.”

His suspicions are confirmed a second later as the cruiser rounds again and heads directly toward them.

He rushes Liam out of the alley through a side route, the two of them crossing the first street they find and trying to pick up the pace as two more sirens cut through the air.  _Different directions. They’ll box us in._

Brett makes certain to keep an eye on Liam as they race along the sidewalk. He’s not going to lose him again.

“In here.” He doesn’t wait for Liam to listen, simply shoving him into an open doorway.

The two of them stumble over the threshold and land hard, but Brett hooks an arm under Liam’s armpits, hauling him back into a shadowy corner of the apartment’s first floor landing.

Seconds later one of the cars flash by and Brett feels Liam’s breath hitch, but it doesn’t stop – continuing on in its search.

_It’s too early for relief,_  Brett thinks.  _They won’t stop until they’ve found us, we need to get back to Allston._

“That was close.” Liam slumps down in his arms, but Brett shoves him to his feet.

“We’re not in the clear yet.” He stands. “We need to move.”

“What’s your problem?” Liam narrows his eyes, “You did it. You put her to rest. You should be happy right now.”

“You didn’t listen.” Brett tries to control his frustration. “You almost got yourself – and me – killed.”

“But we’re not.” Liam defends, “And you did it.”

“That’s not the point, you’re supposed to listen to me and you completely ignored that. I told you to stick close, but you ran off like a suicidal moron.” He knows his tone is harsh, but it’s necessary.  _Liam could’ve died. He could’ve been bitten._

“But it worked.” Liam clearly isn’t seeing Brett’s point. “It worked, Brett. She’s at peace.”

Brett sighs, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. “Fine, let’s not argue about this here. We need to get moving before they come back.”

Liam nods, but looks a little dejected.

“Liam . . . thanks.” The smaller boy looks up at him, surprised.

He smiles, warily. “You’re welcome . . . I wanted you to be free.”

_And now I am._  Brett’s going to need to mull that one over a bit.  _I can do anything, go anywhere. I could head back to Cali, find Lor and . . ._  He hadn’t truly expected to put Cora to rest anytime soon – which means he hasn’t ever put that much serious thought into going back home.  _They might not be there._

“I know.” He gives Liam a tight smile. “Thank you . . . it means a lot. Let’s get home.”

_Liam is here. He’s here and he helped me and he cares about me._ It’s been a while since anyone’s actually cared for Brett; it feels strange _. I’ll let him decide._

They’re able to dodge the cars without too much effort, – thanks to the loud sirens and trails of biters that give them away – but things only get worse when they almost pass right in front of a foot patrol. That takes a little bit of ingenuity to get around, but Brett always manages to find a way, keeping a close watch on Liam, who follows him within a few inches.

They split up after arriving in Allston, with Brett sending Liam on the direct path back to the house, while he circles around to make sure they haven’t been followed. He takes his time, making absolutely certain that no one’s tailing him, before heading home.

“Let’s get back inside.” Brett sighs when he sees Liam waiting outside the house. “We weren’t followed and I doubt they’ll search this far, but better safe than sorry.”

“Yeah . . . there was a lot of those guys.”

“I’ve told you.” Brett climbs up into the window, reaching back to give Liam a hand up. “We can’t mess with them anymore.”

“Don’t need to tell me a third time.” Liam says, but Brett has a feeling he might have to.

“I’m wiped.” Brett collapses in the corner, shrugging off his jacket.

“We need to celebrate.” Liam’s smiling at him. “C’mon it’s my birthday.”

Brett can’t help but smile at his eagerness. “And how do you plan on doing that?”

Liam gives him an impish smile and produces a clear bottle from inside his jacket.

“Is that bourbon?”

“That’s what it says.” Liam eyes the bottle.

“Where’d you find that?”

Liam smirks. “You took so long getting back, I got bored and broke into that liquor store.”

Brett shakes his head at Liam, laughing. “What the hell.” He shrugs, taking the bottle from Liam as the short boy takes off his coat and seats himself on the floor next to Brett.

He uncorks the top and stands.

“Where’re you going?” Liam questions.

“Just give me a sec.” Brett heads down to the second floor and leans out the window, pouring a small amount out onto the dirt in the yard.

_I’ll never forget you, my love. Rest easy now._

When he heads back up, Liam doesn’t ask what he’d been doing – so Brett assumes he knows.

“This would be better if we had shot glasses.” Brett states.

“I’m sure it tastes the same.”

“You ever have bourbon?”

“Nope.” Liam shakes his head.

“Good,” Brett smiles at him, “hope you’re ready.”

He brings the bottle to his lips and takes a quick swig. It tastes warm and would’ve definitely been better in a few years, but Brett swallows it easily.

“You’re up.” Brett tilts the bottle over and Liam takes it, looking determined.

He tilts the bottle straight back and guzzles it.

Brett’s so stunned it takes him a few seconds to react and yank the bottle away from Liam, who subsequently coughs up a bit onto the floor, but remarkably manages to keep most of it down.

“What is wrong with you?” Brett questions, noticing how wet Liam’s bottom lip looks.

Liam giggles and leans back into the wall, patting at his stomach. “Wanted to get it over with. I figured it’d be easier if I just went for it.”

“This is like the first warning sign of alcoholism.” Brett teases, holding the bottle up. “You almost drank a quarter of it.”

“Only my second time.” Liam smiles, licking at his lips. “Swear.”

“I’m impressed.” Brett takes another sip. “But that just means you have no tolerance and you’re gonna be wasted. You should go eat some crackers, before you get sick.”

Liam looks like he doesn’t believe him, but grabs a pack of crackers and a water bottle anyway.

“I really am sorry, you know.” Liam sits back down. “About not listening.”

Brett looks at him, sizing him up. The honesty in his eyes isn’t debatable.

“Don’t worry about it . . . it worked. That’s all that really matters.” He tips the bottle back and takes a large gulp.

Liam’s fingers snatch it away from him, but he takes a normal sip this time, following it up with a cracker.

“I’m gonna be up all night, making sure you don’t choke on your own vomit.”

“It’s the least you can do for me.” Liam smirks.

“Got that right.” Brett slips his arm around Liam’s back, pulling him a little closer.

Silence falls over them, neither speaking, just passing the bottle back and forth. A decent chunk of time slips by and the bottle continues to grow emptier between them.

He’s definitely starting to feel the effects of the alcohol now, so he tucks the bottle away in his bag. _We drank half._ He’s pretty sure that he’ll be alright – he’s got a pretty high tolerance and Liam was the one who drank most of it – but one glance at the younger boy lets him know that he’s long gone.

“Whad’ya do that fer?” Liam slurs, trying to reach for the bottle.

Brett chuckles. “You’re fucked up.” He jostles Liam’s shoulders.

Liam laughs dumbly, letting his head fall against Brett’s denim-clad knee.

“I wanna shower.” He sounds like he’s half-asleep.

“Tomorrow, we can go to Cambridge.” Brett assures him, trying not to stare at how cute Liam’s face looks – smushed up against his knee.

“That’d be cool.” Liam rubs his head up against Brett’s leg, like a dog trying to scratch an itch.

Brett laughs and reaches down to ruffle the boy’s hair.

“Can we still share?” Liam asks.

“A bed?” Brett’s surprised.

“Yeah.” He can see Liam’s ears turning red, but the alcohol’s apparently loosened up his tongue.

“Yeah, that’d be cool.” Brett flicks the back of his ear. “You know I’m a cuddler.”

“I know.” Liam starts laughing, which only intensifies when he slips off of Brett’s leg and onto the floor.

Brett feels laughter bubble up and can’t suppress the fit that comes over him. He rolls onto the floor next to Liam, bumping their heads together, painfully. He’s not sure how long they spend laughing on the floor, but when he sits up Liam looks half-asleep.

“C’mere.” He grabs Liam’s shoulder and pulls him up.

“Are you drunk?” Liam asks him, yawning.

“A little.” Brett makes a so-so gesture.

“Am I drunk?” Liam bobs forward, but Brett keeps him upright.

“Fucking wasted, man.”

He laughs, but it’s clear he’s trying to keep himself under control. “Is okay, right?”

“‘Course, it’s your fucking birthday. You’re almost an adult.” Brett shakes him a bit, chuckling at the pliant way he moves under his hands.

“M’already an adult.” He insists, fingers playing with the leg of Brett’s pants.

“Not for another year, shorty.” Brett lets his hands rest on Liam’s shoulders, rubbing small circles. He knows he might be crossing a line, being this cozy with Liam, but his mind’s too clouded for him to care all that much.  _I should stop._

Suddenly Liam lunges forward and tackles Brett, knocking both of them backwards onto the ground. The younger boy’s arms circle around Brett’s back, pinning him to the ground.

Brett’s laughing, but manages to choke out, “What’re you doing?”

“I dunno.” Liam shrugs, still not letting go of Brett. “Just wanted to do that.”

“Okay.” Brett nods, rubbing his chin against the top of Liam’s head. “This is nice.”

“Mhm.” Liam agrees, kicking at Brett’s foot.

“You’re asleep.” Brett says after a minute of lying together on the floor.

“Am not.” Liam grumbles, looking up at Brett and blinking his eyes open.

“Get up.” Brett struggles against his hold, but breaking free is easier than he’d thought. Liam’s really drunk. “Stay sitting.” Brett tries to keep his voice steady, holding up a finger at an annoyed looking Liam, while he stands and stumbles around - trying to find the crackers and water. He heads into the kitchen to grab some jerky, before returning to Liam. “Here.”

Liam accepts a handful of crackers, stuffing three in his mouth at a time.

Brett chuckles.  _Nice to know that being drunk doesn’t change his eating habits._

Brett bites off a piece of beef jerky, before handing it over to Liam, who immediately devours it. He smirks and hands him some more crackers and another piece of jerky.

“It’s gonna be hard to keep you fed.” He teases, around a mouthful of cracker.

“Don’ talk w’your mouf fuw.” Liam garbles around the dried meat.

“Shut the fuck up.” Brett flicks a cracker at him. “Finish eating, so we can go to bed.”

“What? S’not even-” He stops short, probably noticing that the room had grown dark around them. “Oh.”

“You’re the one who’s tired anyway.” Brett laughs, “You were just falling asleep on me.”

“Whatever.” Liam eats some more crackers and drinks some water – though Brett almost has to force him to.

He waits patiently for him to finish, while eating a few more crackers and some jerky, himself. He really doesn’t like the taste of beef jerky, but it’s the only thing that’s still readily available as far as meat goes. He’s considered hunting before – with the ample supply of wild animals beginning to make their homes in the city – but firing his gun would draw biters and he doubts he can catch a dear or rabbit with the machete.

“All set?” Liam nods, so Brett gets to his feet and helps him up. “Sit.” He pushes Liam down onto the mattress.

Liam looks up at him and waggles his eyebrows. “Got me where you want me?”

Brett laughs with a shake of his head and kneels down to untie Liam’s boots. “Shut up.” He yanks each boot off and drops them to the floor with loud thumps.

_Little brat, lucky I’m even taking care of you,_  but the thought comes affectionately, holding no actual resentment.

“Help.” Liam tugs at the waist of his jeans.

Brett shoots him a concerned look. He’s not so drunk that Liam’s request doesn’t strike him as odd. He’s always been pretty shy about getting undressed - this isn’t a normal thing.

“You always sleep in your jeans.” He speaks slowly, careful to keep his tone neutral.

“It’s my birthday.” Liam gets his zipper down, but gives up at that. “Help.”

Brett’s dick responds with a twitch. There’s no way he’s going to take advantage of a drunk seventeen year old, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t really want to – like really, really want to.

His hands move to Liam’s waist, cautiously, ready to back off if Liam gives any hint that he’s uncomfortable. But Liam just looks at him drowsily, slightly smiling.

He grips the waist of Liam’s jeans, pulling them down carefully and making certain not to accidentally tug his boxers down along with the denim. He’s got them off a second later and Liam spreads out on the bed, taking over the entire space.

“Gonna need you to slide over.” Brett smiles at the grumpy look he gets, but Liam rolls towards the edge of the bed, giving Brett room to lay behind him.

He quickly ditches his shirt and changes into his sweatpants, pretending not to notice Liam’s eyes on him. He knows Liam’s probably attracted to him, but he also knows he’s just gone through something traumatic with Garrett – now wouldn’t be the time to start anything with him. Not to mention Liam’s only seventeen, but that somehow seems less of an issue now than it would have before the biters came.

_Stop thinking about it._  Brett feels himself get angry, not with Liam, but with himself.  _You’re jeopardizing your friendship with him. He’s seventeen, he’s been used and abused by Garrett and from the sound of it, his father too. He’s alone, you need to take care of him, not take advantage of him._

Brett takes a moment to center himself, trying desperately to dispel the alcohol clouding his mind – not that it works, but he feels a little better about climbing over Liam to get into bed, knowing that he’s at least trying.

Liam squirms impatiently, trying to get Brett’s attention, but the older boy does his best to ignore him.

It doesn’t work out so well, when Liam rolls over. “You’re being weird.”

“Me?” Brett can’t help but smile a bit. “You hate being touched.”

“Not tonight.” He says, matter-of-factly.

“You’re drunk.”

“So are you.” Liam shimmies closer, tucking his head in the crook of Brett’s neck.

The younger boy’s breath on his skin is going to drive Brett insane; he can’t stop his hands from coming up to rest on Liam’s waist, toying with the hem of his shirt.

He’s still squirming against Brett, so the taller boy tilts his head down.

“Are you alright?”

Liam’s lips are on his.

Brett doesn’t even have time to prepare himself, it comes so suddenly. A noise escapes his throat as Liam’s chapped lips work against his, trying to get him to respond. He doesn’t.

It takes Liam a few seconds to realize that he’s not returning the kiss, but he pulls away and looks at Brett with anger in his eyes.

“Liam . . .”

The smaller boy tries to get up, but Brett keeps him in place with an arm around his waist.

“Liam, just wait.”

“Let me go!” He roars, but Brett sits up and pins him to the mattress with his knees, straddling him.

He doesn’t know what to do, so he leans down and presses his lips to Liam’s again. It’s not a heated kiss, just a press of lips to calm him down.

“You’re drunk.” Brett says, when he pulls back a bit – but keeps his face only inches from Liam’s. “I’m not taking advantage of you.”

“I want you to.” Liam sounds more tired than aroused, but Brett’s currently in a position where he can testify to Liam’s arousal.

 “You’re not even going to remember this.” Brett whispers, “Trust me, Liam. You don’t want this. Not now.”

“Tomorrow?” He asks, pathetically.

Brett gives him a small smile, pressing another kiss to his lips. He doesn’t mean to, his body making the decision of its own accord.  _I’m definitely going to hell._

“Remind me and we’ll talk about it.” He says, knowing that Liam probably won’t remember any of this and they can move on with their lives in the morning.  _I won’t be able to,_  the thought comes without permission.  _I’ll never be able to move past this._

“Okay.” Liam looks dejected, but doesn’t try to run as Brett climbs off of him. “But you owe me.” He glances down at the clear tent in his boxers and Brett has to bite his lip at the sight of that.

“Go to sleep.” He laughs.

“Kinda hard like this.” He holds his hands out.

Brett’s silent a moment, trying to figure this out. He more than wants to offer to take care of it for Liam, but he knows that’d be fucked.  _Control yourself._

“Take care of it.” He says, shortly; his voice barely a whisper.

“Help me out?”

“No.” He forces the word out. “You’re drunk.”

“Fine.” Liam reaches for the bulge in his boxers and Brett rolls to face the other direction.

_Ignore it. Just ignore it. Don’t fucking look at him._

It becomes harder not to when Liam starts breathing loudly and the bed begins to move along with his movements. One of Liam’s knees falls open to land on Brett’s hip and it takes everything he has not to roll over and take Liam right there, hard and fast against the mattress.

“Ah.” Liam gasps and Brett can feel him speeding up. “Fuck.”

Liam’s body stiffens next to him and then spasms, but Brett doesn’t move. He can hear Liam wiping his hand on the blanket –  _we’ll need a new one_ – and pulling his boxers back up.

“Brett.” Liam tries to get his attention and Brett rolls, reluctantly. “I’m done.”

“I can see that.” Brett eyes the damp smear on the blanket.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” It’s been a long time since Brett’s felt this conflicted about anything.  _Something brought us together, but this . . . it’s wrong. I just put Cora to rest and he’s too young._

“Can you . . ?” He makes a gesture and Brett nods, trying to smile.

Liam rolls over and Brett wraps an arm around his waist, tucking his body up against Liam’s.

“Goodnight.” He whispers in Liam’s ear, desperately trying not to get too close.

“Night, B.” Liam murmurs, settling in.

_B._

_No one’s ever called me that besides Cora . . ._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many things come together in this chapter and I'm a little worried that the whole Cora thing came a little soon, but it just kind of went that way. Either way, I'm really proud of this one. Let me know what you guys think!


	7. This Awful Energy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Real quick, I just want everyone to know that there's an incident of self-harm in this chapter. If you don't want to read that, but still want to read the chapter, you can skip about halfway down to Brett's POV. Thanks!

**Liam’s POV**

“Fuck.” Liam groans, throwing an arm over his eyes to shield them from the harsh light. His head’s pounding and he feels like he’s going to puke if he moves.

“Take these.” Brett’s voice startles him, but he takes the pills without lifting his head and swallows them dry. “This too.” He accepts the water and takes a few deep gulps, before trying to bury himself deeper into the mattress.

Brett pulls the blanket over him, helping to block out the sunlight.

“How you feeling?”

“Like death.” Liam grumbles, desperately wanting Brett to leave him alone so he can die in peace. His head’s swimming and spinning with nausea, and he feels a cold sweat breaking out all over his body.

“Keep drinking water, you’ll feel better in a few hours.” Brett places a second bottle on the ground next to the mattress. “There’s a bowl here if you need to throw up.”

“Gee thanks.” Liam’s says, acidly.

Brett doesn’t say anything back, but Liam knows he’s still seated on the floor next to him. He’s never wanted Brett to be further away this much before.

“Leave me alone.”

“Liam . . .” Brett’s voice hitches in his throat and Liam feels tears prick at his eyes.

He can’t look at Brett, not after what happened last night. He can barely remember it and he’s been hoping it was just a dream, but he knows he kissed Brett – and got rejected. The worst part of the whole thing is that Liam is almost certain Brett turned him down in the nicest possible way.  _Fucking asshole._

“Go.” He forces his voice to come out strong.

He hears Brett getting to his feet and heading down to the second floor, but nothing after that.  _Maybe he’s gone for good._  Liam’s heart wrenches at the thought, but he wouldn’t blame him for it.

It feels like an eternity passes as Liam huddles underneath the blanket – drinking water when he can – and trying to suppress increasingly painful rounds of retching.  _His promise is kept, he has no reason to stay anymore. You’re alone._

Eventually the pills Brett had given him start to take effect and Liam is able to sit up without vomiting, though he still shields his eyes against the light. The rooms empty.

He stays seated for a while, noting that his bare legs are touching the blanket. Somehow that makes the situation worse.  _I probably tried to throw myself at him . . ._

Tears well up in his eyes, but he refuses to let them spill over.  _Keep your shit together. Survive._

Liam pushes the blanket off, getting to his feet and stepping back into his jeans. He does a quick check of the house and feels his stomach sink as his fears prove to be true.

_He’s gone. Brett’s gone. He took his bag and everything._

He barely makes it back upstairs before his legs give out on him and he collapses against the wall. His body is wracked by violent sobs, leaving hot trails of tears down his cheeks; at the same time, he forgets how to breathe and begins to hyperventilate.

_You’re a failure. A fucking mistake._

Rolling onto his side, Liam tries to curl up and disappear. He feels his nose running, but doesn’t care.  _I’ve got nothing. No one._

His parents are dead, Garrett’s dead, Violet’s gone, he’d abandoned Scott and the others and failed Peter, and now he’s lost Brett.

Like a switch his despair turns to rage with a flare and Liam lets out a series of roars that leave his throat feeling raw and torn. His fists crash down against the wooden floor, then the wall, then the floor again.  _Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fucking fuck them all._

His knuckles turn red and then split as he continues to slam them into any hard surface he can find. He pictures faces in the solid wood of the house.  _Brett, then Garrett, then Peter, then dad, then Scott, Brett again, Brett, Brett, Brett._

He kicks at a can on the floor, sending it soaring across the room.

_“We should clean this place up a bit.”_  He laughs at the memory of Brett’s words.  _Good thing I didn’t waste my time cleaning up._

“Fuck you all.” He mutters to himself, swiping at his eyes and nose with his forearm. “I swear to God I’ll kill you. Fuck!”

It hits him that he’s not sure who he means.  _I’ve already killed Garrett and Brett’s gone._

_Me._

The thought sends an unexpected wave of calm over his body. It’s not something he’s considered since his dad went to jail and things got better for him, but . . .  _I don’t have anything left. It’s not like anyone will care or I’m gonna miss out on anything._

He knows he’s not thinking clearly, but that’s the thing; he just doesn’t care. He feels almost like he’s in a trance as he finds his knife on the ground.  _I shouldn’t feel this calm. I didn’t feel like this the other times . . . maybe . . . maybe that mean’s it’s time. It’s right._

Liam spends a few minutes contemplating the sharp edge of the knife, turning it over and over in his palm. It’s not a big knife, but it’s sharp. It was a gift from Garrett.  _Fitting, I guess._

_Do you even know what to do?_  He’s not so sure he can make it deep enough to end everything. He’d only ever scratched the surface before, but he’d been hyper alert and sensitive those times – he’s never felt numb like this.  _Why do I feel numb?_

His body moves of its own accord; Liam feels like a passenger, watching his arm turn over and the blade come to rest against the soft underside of his wrist.

It moves and leaves a trail of red behind.  _That’s not deep enough._  The next one is deeper and a more satisfying amount of blood runs down his arm.

There’s still tears streaming down his face, but he smiles and gives a small chuckle at the curious sight on his arm. _I’m fucked . . . who cares?_

He pushes harder on the third and feels a sting. He hadn’t felt the first two, but it’s not an altogether unpleasant feeling. It feels . . .  _exhilarating_.

“Fuck me.” Liam bites his lip, but can’t keep the smile off of his face. He feels good. Better than he has in a while, actually.

Dropping the knife to the floor, he holds his arm up and examines the blood dripping down towards his elbow. It’s gotten darker from the first cut – that’s a good sign.

His fingers smear some of it back, wiping it away so that he can see the third cut.  _That looks gross._  The thought elicits a bubble of laughter.

“See you soon, Garrett.” He says bitterly.  _Maybe you’ll get your revenge._

“What the fuck?” There’s a gasp and crash.

Liam looks up, startled.

Brett’s standing at the top of the stairs, his face looks pale and his hands seem frozen in the air.

A sudden bought of energy seizes Liam with a laugh and he reaches for the knife.  _Make the final cut. Make him watch you die._  Before his fingers can reach it, Brett rushes forward and kicks it out of his reach.

“Liam! Shit, Liam! What are you doing?” He’s on his knees, hands feeling at Liam’s neck and trying to get him to look up into his eyes.

Liam does, but with a lazy calm that he’s never felt when looking at Brett before.

“What’s up?” He chuckles.

“Fuck!” Brett leaves again, but Liam doesn’t feel anything this time.  _I hope he’ll be alright._

He is a little confused when Brett returns a second later, wrapping a towel around his arm and pressing on it tightly – but he’s not too concerned. He’s more tired than anything, actually.

“Liam, buddy, hey, I need you to look at me.” Brett’s fingers tap at his cheek, gently. “Liam!”

“What?” He looks at Brett, trying to focus on him, but his mind keeps wandering.

There’s a string of expletives constantly falling from Brett’s lips as he tries to staunch the flow of blood from Liam’s arm.

“Look at me.” Brett speaks forcefully, hand gripping Liam’s chin. “I need you to do me a favor. I need you to hold this here,” He squeezes the towel and Liam’s surprised at the pain he feels, “Tightly. Can you do that for me?”

“Guess so.” Liam allows his hand to be guided to the towel and pressed tightly against the wet material.

Brett’s gone again and it feels like ages until he finally reappears, carrying a few things that Liam doesn’t care enough to examine.

He watches curiously as Brett pours some water on his hands, followed by another liquid, before shaking them dry.

“Alright, let me see.” Brett pulls his hand away and unwraps the towel. “Shit . . . Liam.” He begins doing something, but Liam’s more concerned with the way his hair’s curling on his forehead.  _He’s pretty when he sweats._

Then his arm stings and he looks down – seeing Brett placing a bottle on the floor – and tries to swat his hands away.

“Don’t!” One of Brett’s arms shoot up to hold Liam in place.

“Stop.” Liam struggles, “You’re hurting me.”

“Liam, buddy,” Brett loosens his grip, looking at Liam with a strange expression. “Please, I need you to hold still, okay? I need both of my hands to do this.”

“It hurts.” He whimpers, feeling tears prick at his eyes again.  _Why was I crying before?_

“I know, but I’m trying to help you. You need to trust me. You trust me, right?”

Liam’s head nods, slowly.  _I do. I don’t understand, but I trust him._

“Can you be quick?”

“I can try.”

Liam slumps back against the wall and does his best to ignore the increasingly painful stinging sensation in his arm. He can’t see what’s happening, because Brett’s head and hands are blocking his view, but it looks – and feels – like he’s pinching him.

“Are you almost done?” He asks after a little time has passed. “I’m tired.”

“Almost, just hang in there a few more minutes.” Brett returns to touching his arm, until he eventually grabs a pair of scissors, then turns to Liam. “How’re you feeling?” Liam feels a big hand come to rest on his forehead, then move down to feel at his neck.

“Tired.” Liam repeats.

“Think you can stay awake with me for a little bit?” Brett smiles at him, but it looks off.

“I don’t want to.” Liam states, watching as Brett pours some water on a clean cloth and wipes the dark red stains off of his arm.

There’s a large dark spot that doesn’t wash away, which is revealed to be stitches upon closer inspection.

“I did that?” It’s as much a question as a statement.

Brett nods, biting at his lips. “You did.”

“Shit.”

“Why?”

“I . . . don’t remember. I was mad, I think.”

“Why?”

“Stop asking me that.” Liam pulls his arm out of Brett’s grasp, clutching it to his abdomen. “Stop!”

“I’m sorry . . .” Brett looks like he’s going to cry and Liam feels good about that.

The good feeling lasts only seconds, before he feels angry. He wants to punch Brett in the face, but resolves to get away instead.

Brett’s hands seize him before he makes it an inch off the ground.

“Let me go!” He thrashes.

“Knock it off!” Brett presses him back against the wall, not painfully but hard enough that he can’t move. “You’re going to tear out your stitches.”

“Good!” His eyes water and his throat’s starting to hurt.

Brett’s expression softens, but he doesn’t move. “Can I ask you to do something or me? A favor?”

“What are you talking about?” Liam hasn’t given up his struggle.

“Just . . . just give me your hands.” Brett releases him slowly, making sure he’s not going to run, but Liam doesn’t plan on it. He’s curious. “Thanks.” Brett says, folding Liam’s hands into his giant sized ones. “Now sit up a bit, just a little. Good job, bud. I’m gonna need you to close your eyes now.”

Liam wrinkles his nose at that.  _What does he want?_ “Why?”

“Please?” Liam doesn’t mean to comply, but there’s something in Brett’s pleading eyes that make his body react without permission. “Thanks. Alright, now I’m going to need you to take a deep breath and let it out . . . awesome. Just repeat with me, okay?”

Liam doesn’t say anything, but his silence is taken as a yes.

“The sun.” Brett breathes in deeply, “The moon.” He releases his breath. “The truth.” He repeats it three times, before squeezing Liam’s hands. “C’mon.”

_His hands feel nice,_  Liam thinks as he repeats Brett’s words.

The two of them sit on the floor, holding their hands between them and breathing in time with the chant.  _This is nice._  Liam loses track of how long they’ve been sitting there, but eventually Brett releases his hands and Liam opens his eyes.

He feels . . . calm. Really tired, but calm.

“Are you okay?” Brett asks.

“Yeah.” Liam nods, “Tired.”

“Can I?” Brett gestures towards Liam’s hands with his chin.

“Knock yourself out.” Liam watches as he pours some peroxide onto his knuckles, before drying them off, gently.

“I should bandage up the smaller cuts.” Brett’s voice is calm. Liam likes that.

“No.” Liam pulls his legs up to his chest, pressing himself into a ball. “I’m tired now.”

“Alright.” Brett sits beside him, “Just talk to me for a bit, yeah? Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

“You first.” Liam mumbles, sleepily. He leans into the warmth of Brett’s shoulder.

“Uhm . . . one time, when I was a little kid – before my parents died – I wet the bed, but I didn’t want to get in trouble for it, right? So instead of telling anyone, I hid my sheets in the oven. Almost burned the house down when my parents starting making dinner.” His voice is shaking, but he takes his time speaking.

“That’s gross.” Liam smiles.

“Your turn.” Brett nudges him, which is kind of annoying, but he doesn’t look like he’s teasing him. He looks like he’s afraid of him.

“I don’t have anything.” He shrugs.

“Sure you do. What’s your last name?”

“Dunbar.” The word feels odd.

“Liam Dunbar.” Brett says, slowly. “I like it. Is it your moms?”

“Yeah . . . she kept her name in both her marriages.”

“That’s cool.” Brett clicks his tongue. “Did you play video games?”

“Yeah. Halo and Call of Duty with Mason. Always kicked his ass.”

“I bet you did.” Brett laughs, using a hand to tilt Liam’s face towards him. “Does anything hurt?”

“Arm stings a bit.”

“Nothing else?” Liam shakes his head. “Okay . . . tell me about Mason.”

“He was my best friend, besides Garrett.” Liam murmurs, feeling his head dip in exhaustion. “They never liked each other, but Mason was a lot nicer.”

“Am I nice to you?” The questions strange, but it’s the tone it’s asked in that’s really peculiar. “Am I? Liam, I need you to tell me if I’m doing something wrong, I-, I can’t . . . this.” His hand weakly grabs at Liam’s arm.

“You’re the nicest to me.” He says truthfully. No one’s ever treated him the way Brett has.

“Then why’d you do this?” His fingers dig into Liam’s forearm, but carefully avoid the large cut where he’s been stitched up.

Liam looks at it for a long time, trying to recall what his intention had been. It’s hard to think about anything before the words Brett had him repeat.  _The sun . . . the moon . . . the truth._ He likes them.

“You left me.”

“You told me to.” Brett looks distressed. “Liam, I . . . please, I need you to promise that you’ll never do this again.”

Liam doesn’t answer. Instead he goes to sleep.

* * *

**Brett’s POV**

Liam’s been sleeping for a few hours now, but Brett hasn’t left his side for more than a few moments. He makes sure to check his pulse every so often, but besides that he doesn’t have much to do besides stare at his sleeping form and dread what’s to come.

He’s moved Liam onto the bed, but doesn’t undress him.  _I should’ve never done it in the first place. This is all because I wasn’t strong enough to control myself._

He finds Liam’s knife and washes the blood off, but then proceeds to hide it in his bag.  _I got lucky . . . he could’ve gone for the gun._  Brett shuts out the thought, he doesn’t even know what he’d have done if he’d come back and found Liam . . .

Brett eventually comes to the conclusion that Liam should know about the meds he picked up. Not that he’ll advise using them, but he’s never seen anything like what Liam just pulled and he needs to do  _something_.

_Bring him to Cambridge. Get him there and set up, then leave and never look back. It’s the least you can do after everything . . ._

“Do we have any food?” Liam’s groggy voice sends twin jolts of fear and relief through Brett.

“Liam.” Brett hurries to the mattress.

“I’m hungry.” He wrinkles his face up. “Ow.” He cracks an eye open to glance at his arm. “Shit . . .”

Brett follows his gaze. It’s an ugly looking job, but he’s never been very good at stitches. It’d do the job, but Liam would have a pretty gnarly looking scar. Brett’s just thankful he didn’t open a major artery or vein.

“Are you okay? How do you feel?” Brett wants to do something, but he can’t think of anything that would help Liam right now.

“Like I’m dying.”

Brett doesn’t know what to say to that. The kids had a ridiculously tough morning and he doesn’t even know how to begin to deal with it.

“You’re not.” He settles on the words firmly. “You’re not dying.”

Liam looks away. “Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize to me, just . . . tell me why?”

“I don’t know.” Liam mumbles. “It just sort of happened.”

“Liam . . . shit, I don’t even know what to say to you right now.” He shakes his head and wipes the sweat from his brow. It’s not an abnormally hot day, but he’s been worrying over the dumbass for hours now.

“Don’t say anything.” Liam’s tone hardens. “Just leave me alone.”

“You fucking wish.” Brett looks at him like he’s insane – which he just might be. “You’re not going to be alone for a long time. Get used to me holding your hand while you take a piss, because you’re not leaving my sight.”

“I’m not a baby.” His voice is muffled by the pillow he’s buried his face in.

“Do you even understand what you just tried to do?” Brett doesn’t mean to sound so angry, but he can’t help it. Liam almost took his own life and if Brett hadn’t returned when he did, he probably would have succeeded. “You almost died, Liam.”

“So?” Brett can hear the anguish in his voice and his heart feels tight.

“Liam,” He gently touches the boy’s elbow, hoping it’s not a mistake. Liam doesn’t move. “Liam, please, you can’t say things like that. You’re my only friend, I need you.”

The short boy doesn’t move, but Brett can hear him crying into the pillow. He wants to move closer to him, to do something, but he’s afraid that now would be the worst time to overstep his boundaries.

Liam’s hand grabs his wrist as he tries to pull away, and he lets out a startled noise.

“I’m sorry.” Liam doesn’t look at him.

“Liam, buddy . . .” He slowly puts pressure on the edge of the bed, giving Liam plenty of time to tell him to stop. “Can I?”

“Please.”

Brett moves up onto the mattress, next to Liam, throwing an arm around his waist and curling up behind him.

“I’m sorry, for whatever I did.” He whispers, not bothering to fight the hot tears that come to his own eyes.

“You didn’t . . .” Liam hesitates. “I did it. I’m sorry. I just don’t want you to hate me.”

“Liam, I could never hate you.” Brett says, honestly. Sure he’s known the kid for about two weeks, but they’ve been through enough shit in that short time that he’s certain when he says it. There isn’t a thing Liam could do that would make Brett hate him. “. . . I knew you’d regret it. I should’ve stopped you sooner.”

Liam’s silent.

“I need you to talk to me here.” Brett pleads. “I need you to say something.”

“Not much to say. You’re too nice to me.” Brett can hear the absolute self-loathing in Liam’s voice and he’s never hated anything as much.  _He has nothing to hate about himself_.

“I’m not.” He asserts. “I fucked up bad, Liam. I just, I- can you forgive me?”

“For what?”

“What I did last night.” Brett tries to clarify without saying it. He doesn’t think he can say it.

“I kissed you.” Liam turns his head to look at him, critically. “I fucked up.”

“You don’t remember.” Realization dawns on him. Liam doesn’t remember that he’d kissed him back.  _Stupid fucking kid._

“Remember what?”

Brett ignores his question. “You said – before – you said that you did this because I left.” He touches Liam’s arm, tentatively.

Liam’s eyes dip. “Yeah?”

“That true?”

“I guess.”

“It wasn’t because I did anything wrong to you? Because I was mean to you or anything?”  _This is important. He doesn’t remember._

“No . . . did you punch me or something?” Liam sounds pathetic; like he’s been completely beaten down, but there’s still that hint of fight in his voice that makes Brett breathe a little easier.

“Just told you to sleep it off.” Brett lies and tightens his arm around Liam. “You were drunk, don’t worry about it. If you honestly thought a drunken kiss was going to make me leave you, you’re seriously underestimating my commitment to keep your ass alive.” He sees the corners of Liam’s mouth tilt up a bit and smiles at that.  _He’s going to be okay._  “I needed to know it wasn’t because I got rough with you yesterday . . . I really am grateful for what you did. She has you to thank for it.”

Liam seems to accept his answer for a few seconds, but then asks, “Why aren’t you mad at me? I kissed you. That’s not nothing.”

Brett shrugs, “You were drunk. Wouldn’t matter either way, I . . . care about you. You did something I never could have on my own and I owe you everything for it, but even if I didn’t, well, you’re my friend, right?”

Liam’s answer comes after a long stretch of silence that makes Brett nervous. “Yeah.”

“Friends watch out for friends.” Brett jostles him a bit, careful not to move his arm too much.

“You’re seriously not mad?” Liam shakes his head like he can’t believe it. “Garrett would have beat the shit out of me.”

“I’m not Garrett.” Brett says a little too forcefully. “Sorry . . . I mean, it isn’t a big deal. I’ve kissed plenty of my friends before, I’m not gonna make a big deal out of it just cause you’re a guy.”

“You’re weird.”

“Guess so. How’s your head feel? You were pretty hungover this morning.”

“Better.” Liam purses his lips. “My arm hurts.” He looks down at the ugly slash on his forearm.

“I put antibacterial ointment on it. It’s gonna feel gross, but don’t touch it. Looks like you tried a couple times, but only that one was serious.” Brett points to the stitches. He knows he’s using his professional voice, but he doesn’t think he can talk about it any other way. “When you’re ready to get up, I wanna bandage it and I’ll get you some more aspirin.”

Liam rolls onto his back and breaths out, heavily. “It’s been a shit day.”

“You’re telling me.” Brett sighs in agreement. “Was that . . . that was your disorder, right?” He tries to be careful about his wording. Liam seems upset and irritable now, but nothing like what he’d walked in on a few hours ago.

He’d been hysterical and Brett would have chalked it up to sleep deprivation if he hadn’t known Liam slept all night – he’d stayed up the entire night to watch him and make sure he didn’t choke on his own vomit.

“I guess.” He glances down at his knuckles. Brett had cleaned them up a bit more while Liam slept, but they were still red and raw. “Usually don’t hurt myself . . . probably would’ve been you if you’d been here.”

Brett wants to object. He wants to say that it wouldn’t have happened at all if he’d been there, but that seems wrong. Liam has an illness that he doesn’t understand . . .  _I should’ve fucking majored in psychology_.

“We should find a way to manage it.” He suggests, thinking about the Lithium.

“Avoid me.” Liam jokes dryly.

“Not gonna happen. You used medication before . . . did you do anything else?”

Liam clearly wants to change the subject, but answers Brett anyway. “Went to therapy a few times a week. Lacrosse helped more though; I got to get out all of my aggression without hurting anyone badly.”

“I’m not much of a therapist, but you can always talk to me, okay?” He waits for Liam’s nod to continue. “Do you think getting out more would help? I doubt I’ll be able to find any lacrosse sticks, but we can find a park or field or something and maybe a ball? Y’know? We’ve both been cooped up in here for most of the past two weeks.”

“Yeah.” He sits up, stretching out his muscles a bit. Brett watches from his spot, noticing how the afternoon light makes him look older – reflecting off the planes of his face. “Could we go out soon, actually?”

Brett wants to say no. Liam literally just tried to kill himself and it’s been a long day . . . but he does seem more normal now.  _Maybe he needs more naps?_

“Anything specific in mind?” Brett’s careful not to agree with Liam’s request.

“Yeah . . . I want to go to Cambridge.”

_That’s . . . unexpected._

“You’re finally ready?” He keeps his tone even. “You’ve been delaying ever since I told you.”

“That was only so we could put Cora to rest. We did it.” He glances over his shoulder and offers Brett a smile. “You talk about it like it’s heaven, so why not? Can’t be much worse than Allston.”

_He’s asking to go to Cambridge . . . not to California._ Not that the two are mutually exclusive, but Brett had gone over this conversation a million times in his head last night and they all ended with Liam asking him to keep his promise to help get him home.  _He’ll want to go once he’s healing and he can think straight._

“When do you want to leave?”

“Today. Soon . . . now, I guess. That shower sounds great.”

Brett has to smile at that. “Alright.” He eyes Liam cautiously.  _I’ll need to watch him closer than usual, but it’s a short trip to Cambridge._  “Let me take care of that.” He nods at Liam’s arm and gets up to grab his bag.

“Looks clean.” He says, after inspecting it for a moment. “We’ll reapply the ointment later, but this’ll do for now.” He unravels a roll of gauze and proceeds to wrap it around Liam’s forearm – not too tightly. He secures it with a pin and looks up at Liam. “Good as new.”

“Whatever you say.” Liam shakes his head. “It’s gonna scar right?”

“Probably.” Brett doesn’t lie to him, but he wants to be careful with his words. He feels like he’s walking on egg shells around the kid.

“Good.” Liam smiles, but it looks small. “Garrett always made fun of me for not having any.”

Brett chooses not to respond to that. Garrett’s a touchy subject with Liam. He’s still not sure where Liam’s placing most of the blame for his death.

“We should eat before we take off.” He grabs two cans of beans, a pack of crackers, an opened bag of beef jerky, and two capsules of aspirin. “It’s a short walk, but I don’t really know what to expect when we get there.”

“Probably zombies.” Liam says, swallowing the pills before reaching for the jerky.

_It’s nice to see this hasn’t changed his appetite._

Brett’s feeling pretty starving himself and digs in right alongside Liam. He’s running on no sleep and little food, so he figures he’d better try and get as much energy as possible; especially since he doesn’t plan on sleeping at Cambridge until he’s certain that Liam is as well. He doesn’t trust the short boy to be on his own at all anymore.

They take their time eating, which Brett attributes to nerves over leaving what’s become their home. Not that the place is anything special – or even nice really – but it’s kept them safe for the past weeks. It’s a little scary to be leaving that behind.

“I need a weapon.” Liam looks at him meaningfully, a minute after they finish eating.

“Just stay behind me.” Brett’s tone leaves no room for compromise.  _No fucking way in hell is he getting anywhere near a weapon._

“What if something happens?” Liam protests. “What if I need to help you or we get separated?”

“It’ll be pretty hard to get separated when you’re glued to my side, because that’s what’s going to happen if you move more than a few inches away from me.”

“You can keep the knife.” Liam looks conflicted. “It was stupid anyway. Just let me hold the gun? In case you need me to help you.”

“How do I know you won’t blow your brains out?” Brett immediately regrets the words, but Liam doesn’t seem upset.

“Do I look suicidal to you?” Liam lifts his brows and gestures at his body. “I could rip these out if I really wanted too. You wouldn’t be able to redo them if I fought you.”

“You’re not making much of a case for yourself.”

“I’m saying I’m better. I know you’re not going to believe me, but I feel fine. It came and it passed, but I’m okay again.” Liam seems certain of his words, but Brett doesn’t buy it.  _He might think he’s fine, but he’s not really the best judge when it comes to that right now._

“You’re right, I don’t believe you. Just stay close and we’ll talk about you getting your weapon privileges back tomorrow.”

Liam tries to continue arguing after that, but Brett’s not having any of it. Instead he sets about packing everything away into his backpack. The remainder of their food, clothes, and medical provisions barely fit inside, but Brett makes do.

It’s a fairly short walk, but Brett stays alert anyway. With Fenway, biters, and now a suicidal Liam, he doesn’t have the option of complacency.

“I always thought there’d be more survivors in big cities.” Liam states, as the two of them near the bridge. “That’s why we avoided them on our way here.”

Brett shakes his head. “Boston got annihilated by the disease, not many survivors in the first place.” He thinks back to those horrible days. “When the President gave the order for the military to pull back and defend the refugee centers and D.C. it pretty much sealed our fate.”

“I think people killed more people in Beacon Hills than the disease or the zombies did.”

Brett remembers how he and Cora had joked about it being the zombie apocalypse when the disease spread all over the planet, making millions sick. They’d stopped joking when those people began to die and reanimate as walking corpses. Fears of the disease died out at the same time as the disease itself did – but were replaced by fears of the billions of biters in its wake.

“Boston PD kept that from happening. The chief gathered what was left of the force and they rounded up as many survivors as they could. Things were actually alright for a few weeks.”

“I’m guessing that didn’t last.”

“We were outnumbered. Chief held everything together and kept us all focused on the big picture. He was bitten while trying to save a kid.”

“You knew him?” Liam asks, sounding apologetic.

“Not before, but I got to during those weeks . . . I was even going to join the force before he died. Didn’t see the point in it afterwards though.” He shrugs off Liam’s concerned look. “Without him everything fell apart. Old problems came back, tensions rose, the new chief was a complete prick, and we decided to leave.”

“What happened?”

“Cora and I were gathering other students, planning to leave and take care of ourselves outside the city. The day we were leaving some men with assault rifles stormed the few blocks we’d secured and starting killing anyone with a weapon.” He takes a deep breath. The men hadn’t harmed anyone who was unarmed, but Cora knew they had other plans and convinced Brett to continue with their escape. “It was the first time I’d seen Fenway in action. Cora got all of our people out, but the chief and his officers were fighting back . . . some of us got caught in the crossfire.”

Liam’s arm brushes against his. He doesn’t look over, but acknowledges the support by bumping back.

“A few dozen of us made it to the chapel and that’s where we were when they came after us.”

“What would they want with living people?” Liam sounds like he’s talking to himself, so Brett says nothing. “Think they could be government?”

“Which one?” Brett jokes, blackly. There were as many presidents as there were states – according to the last news brought to Boston – each with their own supporters and armies; each wasting their ammo on each other, rather than the biters. All of them are probably dead and gone by now. The bigger the group, the shorter its lifespan. “I don’t think so.” He shakes his head, when Liam gives him an annoyed look. “The guys I saw looked more like bikers than CIA. Probably just some fucked up gang, maybe cannibals, could even be a cult, I guess.”

“Is there another option?” Liam jokes. “How about mutants?”

“Don’t jinx us, asshole.” Brett shoves him a bit. He quickly reminds himself to be careful.  _We can’t just go back to normal after what happened . . . I can’t be complacent. He needs to be watched._

“What about your hometown?” He asks.

“Beacon Hills? It was a mess. Not too many people died from the disease, but there were riots and then zombies drifting into town and biting people who weren’t prepared to deal with them.”

“How’d you guys get out? I never asked.”

Liam smiles at the ground for a moment, before suppressing it. “Garrett stole a car. None of us had our permits, but he figured it out pretty easily. He even taught me how to siphon gas, but we ditched the car when we got close to the city. It was loud and always drew herds to- finally!” He tries to rush ahead to the bridge, but Brett’s hand snaps out to seize his shoulder.

“Sorry.” Liam smiles, sheepishly.

“Just stay close.” Brett instructs. “We have no idea what to expect over there.”

The bridge is in good shape, the cracked stone still holding up. The military had blown some bridges and tunnels in the city before leaving, but this one didn’t hold any real significance at the time.

“It looks greener.” Liam sounds excited, pointing at the trees planted all along the shore of the Charles.

“It’s a nicer city.” Brett smiles.

“Think they’ve got a Taco Bell?”

Brett laughs, shaking his head at the younger boy. “You really need to stop thinking with your stomach.”

“Can’t help it.”

On the bright side, Cambridge proves to be even better than Brett had originally thought. They pass a few gas stations on the way into town, which look relatively untouched, hell, even the supermarket doesn’t have broken windows or signs of any struggle.

The flipside to that is the bodies. Hundreds of them, dead and decaying in the streets.

“The disease.” Brett says, gauging the disturbed expression on Liam’s face for any sign that he might run, or vomit, or cry, or do anything that warranted attention.

“Let’s keep moving.” He turns his eyes away from the bodies and Brett has to agree with him.

It’s a beautiful place, despite all of the death around them. Trees line all the sidewalks, they’ve already passed a few parks, and the entire city has a pleasant New England feel to it.

“Thoughts?” Brett asks, after they’re away from the majority of the bodies. There’s still a couple lying along the sidewalks, but from the looks of it the sick had been corralled near the river.

“It’s pretty.” Liam says, looking at all the trees. “Kind of reminds me of Beacon Hills.”

Brett stops at a corner and turns to look Liam up and down. He’s sweating and Brett worries that maybe the walk is too much for him to handle so soon after his episode, but he offers a reassuring smile.

Liam’s smile vanishes in an instant. “Brett!”

Brett’s hand goes to the machete and he rushes to turn around, – hopefully before the biter gets too close – but he’s stopped by a solid blow to the back of his head.

He hears a shotgun being cocked, before he hits the ground and his fears are tilted upside down.

_Fenway._

“Move and I blow his pretty head clear off his shoulders.” A woman’s voice warns Liam.

Brett rolls over just in time to see a dark skinned woman in a leather jacket advance on him and slam a booted foot into his stomach.

“Fuck!” Brett’s grip is loosened on the machete and she kicks it out of his reach.

His eyes dart to Liam, who looks torn.

“Run!” Brett chokes out as another kick forces him to curl up.

Liam doesn’t move though. He just stands there, looking like a helpless child.

“His name’s Brett? I’ve been looking for a Brett.” The woman smirks and shakes her head. “Looks like it’s my lucky day.” With those words she belts him across the face with the shotgun and his vision goes black.

_I should’ve let Liam have the gun._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for this one being so short, but it's mostly transition again. I needed to get them out of Allston, but not to the happy little paradise they'd been expecting. I had to force myself not to turn this story into complete fluff and just keep them in bed forever . . . maybe I should just go back to that?
> 
> So on the self-harm issue, I drew mostly from personal experience. I don't have I.E.D., so I'm sure it's a not a completely accurate representation, but I did some research so I hope it's not horribly done.
> 
> Anyway let me know what you guys think! I've got some good things coming in the next few chapters that I'm really excited to get too!!


	8. Live From Golgotha!

**Liam’s POV**

“Wake up, traitor.” The mocking tone stirs Liam from his slumber.

His wrists hurt from being bound behind his back all night, but at least his captors had been human enough to provide an old cot for him to sleep on. Brett hadn’t gotten so lucky.

Opening his eyes, Liam can see him tied to a wooden beam across the room. There’s dried blood along the side of his head and his lip is split open, but he’s still breathing. Albeit a little raggedly.

“What do you want?” Liam looks into the dark eyes watching over him.  _I’ve always hated this bitch._

“Come on, Liam.” Erica stands up and smirks at the other girl in the room – who Liam’s done his best to avoid looking at. “I just wanna catch up, you know? Before the boss comes in and rips off all your fingernails.”

“Maybe he can cut my ears off while he’s at it.” Liam mutters, glaring at her. She looks tired and run down without all the makeup she’s always worn.

“I’ll be sure to suggest that . . . come on, Vi.” She waves at Violet to follow her out of the room.

She hesitates, but follows after a second of staring blankly at Liam. She’s been there all night, just . . . watching them. Liam was up most of the night; half waiting for someone to finally come in and talk to them about what’s going on and half in fear of the silent Violet, standing over his cot.

_She looks even worse than Erica. Probably shouldn’t be walking this soon after getting shot._

“Your friends don’t play games.” Brett jokes, but Liam can hear the rawness in his throat.

“Not my friends.”

_It was only a matter of time until we ran into them. I should’ve known I wouldn’t be free of him._

“Right. I guess I can kind of see that.” A few tense seconds of silence pass and Brett appears to be thinking something over. When he does speak, his voice startles Liam. “I need to tell you something.”

“Now?” Liam quirks a brow at him. “Unless it’s an escape plan, I don’t think it’s the time.”

“No, it’s- it’s . . . important, though.” He looks conflicted, but Liam’s more focused on the voices outside the door.

He’s deduced that they’re being held in some type of warehouse – brick walls, exposed wooden beams, high grated windows – but not much else. The only people he’s seen so far have been the woman who kidnapped them, Erica, Violet, and Boyd.

_Where are all the others? Peter left California with a small army of kids, not to mention all of his shady friends . . . guess it wouldn’t be farfetched that a lot of them haven’t made it._

“How important could it really be?” Liam demands, giving up on trying to get his wrists free. He’d been struggling all night, rubbing them raw against the coarse rope.

“It’s about Cora . . .” That gets Liam’s attention, “She was, uh, she-”

“Is my dear niece.” Peter’s voice sends ice down Liam’s spine. “And I’d like to know exactly what you’ve done with her.”

Liam strains his neck to see Peter entering the room, with three others in tow. Their faces are distant blurs next to the sharp lines of the one that makes his stomach turn.

_Niece?_

“Don’t stop now.” Peter taunts, striding towards Brett and squatting down in front of him. “You were just getting to the good part. Go ahead, tell us about Cora.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Brett says evenly, looking right into Peter’s eyes in a way that Liam could never do.

He’s answered with a solid blow to the side of his head.

“Lie to me again boy and I’ll take out your tongue.”

Brett shakes his head in an attempt to recover from the hit and spits blood on the floor. “That wouldn’t be very efficient,” He lifts his head to smirk at Peter, “How can I tell you what I don’t know if I don’t have a tongue.”

_Niece? Cora was Peter’s . . . niece._

Peter purses his lips. “Perhaps you’re right . . . In that case, I’ll take a finger instead.” He draws a knife in a flash and forces Brett’s hand down onto the floor beside him, easily overpowering him due to his binds.

“Wait!” Liam cries, his voice coming out ragged.

“Ah, Liam.” Peter’s eyes flicker towards him. “I was wondering when you’d chirp in.”

“Don’t hurt him.” He hates the weakness in his own voice, but he can’t think of anything else to say. Appealing to Peter’s humanity is a ridiculous notion, and yet he doesn’t have anything else.

“I’m simply trying to locate my missing niece.” Peter smiles, his expression morphing into one of sympathy.

Liam knows it’s not real, but he needs to do something before Brett gets seriously injured. “I’ll make a deal with you.”  _Can you make a deal with Satan?_

“Oh, a deal.” His smile becomes a smirk and he backs away from Brett, “Does this mean you have knowledge of my niece?”

_His niece. That means that . . . it means so many things. Brett’s been lying to me. He knew about Peter when we first caught him. Garrett was right._

“I know where she is.” Liam says, trying to keep his voice steady, but not able to meet Peter’s stare. “I’ll tell you if you promise you’ll let us walk.”

“Us is it?” Peter looks back over at Brett. “This young man must have done something quite spectacular to earn your loyalty so quickly . . .” He leaves the mocking suggestion in the air, like a sign declaring Liam’s shame to the world. “Anyway, why don’t I just take one of your fingers instead, hmm? I happen to know that your pain tolerance is pitifully low. Shouldn’t take more than one to have you singing.”

“She’s dead.” Brett’s voice cuts clearly across the room.

Liam can see the shock on Peter’s face, before it’s quickly buried. He turns to look at Brett, slowly, like a predator who knows that his prey has no option of escape or defense.

“Repeat what you just said to me, boy.” His tone sends a shiver up Liam’s spine.

“Brett-” Liam tries to stop him, but Peter’s hand snatches out and grabs his stitched arm, roughly, silencing him with a yelp. He pleads with his eyes instead;  _don’t tell him, he’ll kill you!_

“If I want you to bark then I will speak to you, dog.” His eyes never leave Brett. “Continue.”

“She’s dead.” Brett somehow still sounds calm. “Untie him and I’ll tell you the rest.”

“How about I castrate him instead?” Peter speaks, and Liam knows in the pit of his stomach that there’s no bluster in the threat. “You have ten seconds to start talking or I’ll make good on that.”

Brett’s eyes turn away from Peter’s, meeting Liam’s over his shoulder. There’s too much there for Liam to process, but he looks weak and pitiful.  _I’ve never seen him this low._

The one thing that’s clear in Brett’s eyes is the apology. Liam doesn’t want him to be that upset, but . . .

_You lied to me._

“She was bitten.” Brett looks back to Peter in defeat. “A while ago. I’ve been on my own since then.”

“You’re lying to me.” Peter doesn’t seem distressed and that’s what worries Liam the most. “Or withholding information, either way, I don’t have time for it. Tell me everything and tell it now, or I’ll make you eat his tongue.”

Liam’s lips part to speak, but then he remembers Peter’s order and the throbbing pain in his arm. Plus, he’d actually like to keep his tongue – and balls – for the time being.

“I know she called you before the cell signals went down. I also know what you did for a living before all of this, which is why I tried to convince her not to.” He’s holding Peter’s gaze, steadily. “When she was bitten I knew that you were already on your way here; I was actually hoping to avoid a situation like this.”

_Peter came here for Cora . . . he didn’t tell any of us that._

Peter’s hand fists into Brett’s hair, yanking his head back, sharply. “The truth boy! All of it!” His face twists into a snarl, before evening out. “You’re clearly stupid, but not suicidal. If all of this is true then why didn’t you leave the city?”

Brett shrugs, trying not to show that he’s in pain. “Couldn’t leave until I put her to rest. Now would you mind getting your hands off of me?”

Liam knows he’s staring at Brett with his mouth open.  _Why did you tell him all of that? Why did you lie to me?_

Peter releases his grip on Brett’s hair and stands up to pace the room.

“If I believe you are telling the truth . . . if my niece is dead because of your neglect, then I’m going to feed you to her zombie. Fitting, no?”

“Good luck with that.” Liam growls, once again trying to break his bindings.  _I should’ve worked out more before the world ended . . ._

“What is that supposed to mean?” Peter glances at him.

“We put her soul to rest.” Brett answers. “She’s at peace.”

It takes Peter a second to understand what he means, but then he lets out a roaring laugh. “At peace? You get my beloved niece killed, then blow her brains out and claim she’s at peace? Oh, the things I plan to do to you, boy . . . you’re going to wish she’d been around to devour you.”

“Let us go.” Liam demands, trying not to betray how terrified he is, but wanting to get the attention away from Brett.

_Stop trying to help him, he lied to you._

“And you!” He wheels around. “You abandoned your friends for this murderer!”

“He didn’t kill her.” Liam snarls back.

“Not like you killed Garrett, maybe not. But he still let her die.” Peter smiles at his expression. “Oh, you thought we didn’t know? You abandoned poor little injured Violet, leaving her all alone, and not only that, but you killed the only person who cared for her.” He shakes his head. “At one time I simply thought you were weak, Liam. Now I know you’re not only weak, you’re a coward and a traitor!”

“I didn’t kill him!” Liam tries to ignore the tears in his eyes.  _Stop. Don’t cry. Stop being weak._

“I suspected as much.” Peter shifts back to calm, unnervingly fast. “Which means, you,” He turns on his heel to look at Brett, “have now killed two of my people. Things are not looking good for you.”

“Neither of us killed him.” Brett says, face still utterly serene, but Liam can see the way he’s biting the inside of his lip and his fists are clenched tight. “He fell.”

“Bullshit!” Violet storms into the room. “Garrett was too good for that! You murdered him!” She flies towards Brett.

Liam expects someone to stop her before she hurts herself, but no one does. Instead, she lands on Brett, clawing and scratching at his face and neck. Her nails, draw clear lines of blood down Brett’s already bruised skin, but he doesn’t even try to fight her off.

“Stop!” Liam shouts, watching as she grabs his hair and uses it to slam his head back against the wooden beam.

Violet looks up at him, releasing her hold on Brett and getting to her feet, wobbling a bit in the process and clutching at her belly. “You.” Her voice makes Liam flinch.  _You were my friend._ “How could you? You loved him as much as I did!”

“It was an accident.” Liam’s voice quakes.

“An accident?” She spits. “You’re the only accident! You chose this,” She throws a hand towards Brett, “Over your family!”

“No, I just-”

Then it clicks in Liam’s head that there’s something off.  _She’s lying . . . just like everyone else. They’re all fucking liars._

“. . . You took Garrett’s clothes.” He says, slowly. “Yours too. It was him that came for you,” He glances, briefly, at Peter, “But you left mine behind. You thought you’d find Garrett, but you left my things . . .”  _Because you weren’t planning on taking me with you. You were going to leave me behind even before you knew about Garrett’s death._

Her face softens, just a bit. “I didn’t have a choice, Li.”

“Garrett had promise and Violet still does. You don’t.” Peter interrupts, stating the facts without much emotion. “You would be a liability to my family, but it’s a shame that you couldn’t just die on your own. You needed to take Garrett with you. I knew you were jealous of the poor girl, but I never thought you’d kill over it.”

“I didn’t-”

“Liam!” Brett silences him. “Shut the fuck up, they’re not going to believe you.”

Violet shoots Brett an icy glare, but seems pleased with the bloody scratches she’s left down his neck.

“There’s no cure.” Liam says, coming to his second realization of the minute. “You lied . . . you lied so that we’d all follow you to find Cora.”

_Kill us, fine, but I’m exposing you._

“That’s a cute theory, Liam, but speak my niece’s name one more time and I’ll be honor bound to take a finger.” But Liam can see it by the flash of anger in his eyes.  _I’m right. He’s lying to them all._

“If you know where a cure is, why are you hiding like rats in this cheery little place?” Brett draws Peter’s attention, but only serves to get a brutal kick to the ribs.

“I’m growing more tired of you by the second, boy.” Liam narrows his eyes at the others in the room. He recognizes two of them as other kids who dealt for Peter at Beacon Hills High, but the third is an older man.  _Tall and terrifying._ “My people are out searching for it as we speak. Lucky for you too; if Severo were here he’d be drooling at the chance to torture the pair of you."

One of the kids is Corey . . . he’d always been nice to Liam before. He wasn’t like most of the others who dealt for Peter; just a neglected kid who needed a home, but there’s no telling how much time and the apocalypse have changed him.

“What do you want from us?” Liam tries not to make it sound like a demand – Peter wouldn’t respond well to that – but also not a plea.  _Neutral’s always best when dealing with a sociopath._

“I’m not sure yet.” He smirks. “For the moment, I’d like to know where you supposedly killed my niece. If she’s truly dead, her body should be recovered for a proper burial.” His eyes pass over Brett, accusingly. “I’d have thought you would have done that.”

“He would have, but-!”

Brett silences Liam with a single look.

“But?”

_He doesn’t want me to tell them about Fenway . . . but he lied to me._

Before Liam can make up his mind, Brett speaks.

“There was a herd coming. I planned to go back for the body, but, well,” He tilts his head to the side, “I’m a little tied up at the moment.”

_I can’t not tell them . . . Peter has kids with him. If they get caught while trying to get her body . . ._ Liam honestly doesn’t know what to make of the situation.  _I should be furious at him. His lie got Garrett killed, almost got me killed a few times too._

But Liam isn’t sure if he can really blame him for it.  _It’s not like we knew each other that well, and Peter is fucking terrifying._

_He never told me the truth though. He had plenty of time._

“Hmm.” Peter seems thoughtful, which has never been a good thing. “We’ll see about that. Now, the body. You have ten seconds to tell me or I start removing appendages.” His eyes flick to Liam, menacingly.

“Few blocks off Comm. Ave.” Brett admits. “Near Pleasant Street.”

“I hope for his sake, you’re telling the truth.” Peter teases, callously.

“I’m not held accountable for my own actions?” Brett shoots right back. “In that case, I’ve got a few things to get off my chest.”

“The bravado’s cute, but you’ve already given away your feelings for him.” He chuckles. “Pitifully quick, I may add. Yet the facts stand, either way. You may have use for the moment. He has none outside of making you talk.” Peter eyes Liam, distastefully.

“Anything else I can offer?” Brett asks with heavy sarcasm.

“Not for the moment.” Peter looks to the older man in the room. “Find Donovan and Josh. We’re going to see if we can recover my niece’s body. You,” He snaps at the other girl, Tracy, Liam thinks her name is. “When my nephew returns, you are to make sure he hears nothing of this until I get back.”

“What do you want me to do?” She asks with a mix of fear and obedience.

“Keep him out of the room.” Peter deadpans. “I’d have thought that was obvious, my dear.” He turns to Corey and Violet with a roll of his eyes. “Violet, be a love and find Erica. Make sure she keeps her mouth shut about this. Have her take a look at your injury as well.”

“What do you want to do about the bitch?” The tall man rumbles. “She won’t keep quiet when Derek gets back.”

“I’ll handle her.” He waves a hand. “Corey, I’m going to trust you to watch these two. If they try anything funny, you are to show them why no one disobeys the Hales. Understood?”

“Yeah.” Corey nods, his eyes on Peter’s shoes.

“Well,” Peter claps his hands together, making Liam flinch. “We’ve all got work to do. Get to it.”

The room empties in seconds, leaving only himself, Brett, and Corey behind. The latter takes a seat on a wooden crate and pulls out a knife.

Liam’s immediate concerns are put to rest as he produces a small wooden figure and starts to whittle away at it.

Minutes pass in silence, the only sound the scraping of Corey’s knife on the wood.

“So-”

“Shut up.” Corey shut’s Brett down. “Don’t talk.”

Brett’s eyes dart to Liam and Liam nods at him.  _If someone’s going to help us, it’ll be him._

“Corey.” Liam gets his attention, and has to suppress the urge to smile in victory.  _He won’t talk to Brett so it’s up to me._ “What happened?”

The brunette looks torn, but he eventually sighs. “Everything went wrong is what happened.”

“There’s no cure.” Liam states, certain of it. “It makes sense. He just wanted to come here for Cora.” He immediately regrets the words when he sees Corey’s face.  _Too far, too soon._

“That’s not true.” He turns back to his task. “Shut up.”

“Corey-”

“I said shut up.” He throws Liam a sharp look.

“Where’s Lucas?” Liam tries, desperately.  _I never liked that asshole, but maybe there’s an opening there._

The look of pure grief that comes over Corey’s face tells Liam that he’s right. It’s a low blow, but he doesn’t have many options right now. They need to escape before Peter returns . . . or doesn’t return. He thinks about Fenway.  _If something happens to him he’ll deserve it, but Josh and Donovan are just kids._  Not that he’s ever cared much for either, especially Donovan.  _Still_  . . .

“Say another word and I’ll go get Peter.”

“He’s leaving. You really want him to think you can’t handle two tied up prisoners?” Liam knows he’s hitting all the right spots, watching Corey stumble.

“I could just cut off your finger.” He states, but Liam can hear that there’s no conviction in his voice.  _So he hasn’t changed that much._

“I just wanna know what happened.” Liam clarifies. “You don’t look good.”

He lets a few seconds of silence pass, before eyeing Liam with a hint of a smile. “You don’t look so hot yourself.”

Brett’s got a smirk on his face as his eyes flicker back and forth between them. “You two want me to scram so you can have the room to yourselves?”

Liam feels heat rise to his cheeks and glares at Brett, but there’s a clear message in his eyes.

_He wants me to whore our way out of this. Fuck him._

“Lucas . . .” Corey draws both of their attention back to him. “He, uh, got bit. Back somewhere in Ohio. Don’t even know the name of the place he died.”

“I’m sorry.” Liam says, sincerely.  _He probably deserved it, but you sure as fuck didn’t._

Corey shrugs. “No use in crying about it.” Liam can almost hear Peter behind the words.

“Still,” Liam leaves it hanging in the air.

“You look like you went through some shit yourself.” He nods at Liam’s stitched up arm.

Liam’s about to lie about it – say that he tripped and got cut on some metal or something – when Corey meets his eyes, knowingly.

“Yeah . . . I, uh, had a rough day.”

“His fault?” Corey looks at Brett, distrustfully.

“No.” Liam shakes his head. “He’s actually saved me a few times, believe it or not.”

“No other scars.” Corey notes, observantly. “Never did anything that stupid when you were with Garrett.”

“Garrett was a narcissistic prick.” Brett snaps, his nostrils flaring in anger.

“Still kept Liam and Violet safe.” Corey shrugs.

_He did. Not that he’d have done it for much longer._ Liam wonders what would have happened if Garrett had succeeded in killing Brett and the two of them ran into Peter.  _He wouldn’t have fought for me,_  he tells himself, knowing it’s true.  _Peter would have turned it into a test and Garrett would have passed._

Brett appears beaten by the comment and looks away. Liam wants to say something to him, let him know that he doesn’t feel that way, but the words don’t come. Maybe if Corey wasn’t in the room.

“You’re here now anyway.” Corey says, turning his attention back to Liam. “You’ll be alright with us.”

“Doesn’t really feel that way, you know?” Liam wriggles against his bindings. “Pretty sure we’re in for some torture and then probably being fed to a herd.”

Corey shakes his head. “Derek won’t let that happen, he looks out for us.”

“I’m not one of you.” Liam points out.  _Not anymore._

“You are.” Corey says, without much emotion. “Peter’s in charge, but he listens to Derek; and Derek always sticks up for us.”

“I’ve never even met him.” He argues. He’d heard of Derek Hale before, but only rumors. He’s supposedly some brooding badass with a shady reputation, but Liam hadn’t even been sure he was real before.

“Doesn’t matter.” Corey seems more focused on his task than their conversation. “He watches out for  _all_  of us.”

“What about him?” Liam asks, gaze drifting to the silent Brett. Brett’s eyes turn up, seemingly surprised that Liam’s concerned for him.  _Stupid asshole._ “Will he help him too?”

Corey looks at Brett for a few long seconds. “No.”

“But-”

“Not if he really let Derek’s sister die. I hope you’re both lying and she’s fine, but if not . . .”

“Corey . . .” Liam tries to control his frustration and choose his words carefully. “Please, just-”

“God, shut up already.” Brett’s tone is sharp. “We all get it, you’re in love with me, but give it a rest, kid.”

Liam’s stomach knots up.

“What?” He asks, dumbly, looking at Brett only to find him staring back with complete apathy.

“It was cool while it lasted, but we’re caught now. I’m going to die, so get over your weird crush on me, if you want to survive.”

The words continue to pierce him like daggers plunged into his chest.  _You already knew he was a liar . . . you knew he only cared because you were the only one around. You knew it, but you didn’t believe it._

“Fuck you.” He spits, fury rising around his heart.

“Can you blame me?” Brett shrugs. “It’s not that I have anything against you, kid. It was nice having someone around for a while, but it’s over now. You wanna live? Then move on.” Brett’s tone is flat and he doesn’t shy away from the rage in Liam’s eyes.

He opens his mouth, but no sound comes out.  _What can I even say to that?_

“Liam.” Corey slides off the crate and comes to kneel beside his cot. “He’s right. We’re your family, you need to forget about him.”

Liam looks at Corey. His expression is genuine and he briefly wonders at the type of friendship the two of them could have. Yet he can’t seem to feel any way about it, instead his emotions seem frozen in time with the words  _“nice having someone around for a while”_.

He feels tears slide down his cheeks, but he’s not sad. Not that he’s aware of anyway . . . just tired.

_It was all for nothing. Garrett’s dead . . . for nothing. He saved my life . . . for nothing. He made me finally feel safe . . . for nothing. I care about him and it means nothing. Not to him._

“Say the word and we’ll show him what you get when you mess with the Hales.” Corey says, laying a hand on Liam’s shoulder. He doesn’t pull away. He’s too numb to care about a stranger touching him.

“No.” He breathes. “I just want to sleep.”

Corey nods and gets up, staring Brett down. “You’re done for.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.” Brett sounds cheery and Liam’s never hated the sound of his voice this much. _How can you sound so content?_

“Can you shut the fuck up so I can sleep?” He snaps.

To his surprise, Brett nods and focuses his attention on the far wall.

He wants to get angry and scream at Brett; he also wants to curl into a ball of tears and shrivel away. Instead he just lays there, staring at the side of Brett’s face and feeling his stomach turn.  _How?_

_How did I fall for it? Or how was it not real?_ He’s not sure which, maybe a bit of both.

“Here if you need me, Liam.” Corey says shortly and turns back to his task, not noticing the glare that Liam sends his way.

_You’re not my family._

He forces his eyes shut and seethes in the darkness. His thoughts race, retracing every moment he’s spent with Brett and trying to find any indication that should have made him doubt that Brett actually cared for him, but he can’t find any.

_Because you’re blind. A cute boy smiled at you and cuddled you at night and you fell for it. He knew you were gay all along, he’s been manipulating you. Fucking moron._

He doesn’t want to believe it, but it’s becoming clearer with every second.

_I kissed him . . ._

Liam loses his sense of time, trying to gauge it by the sound of Corey’s knife scraping wood from across the room, but it’s pretty futile. It feels like he’s been tied to this cot for ages, his muscles screaming to stretch out, but he doesn’t have much room for that.

He jumps, hearing heavy footsteps enter the room.

“Corey.” A man’s standing in the doorway. Tall and mysterious looking.

_There’s no way that’s not Derek._

“Derek!” Corey hops to his feet.

_Called it._

“Where’s my uncle?” He folds his arms at the obvious panic in Corey’s voice. “Who’re they?”

“Uh . . .”

“Derek!” Tracy rushes into the room, looking terrified. “I said to-”

“You don’t give me orders, Tracy.” But he looks at her kindly. “Get in here and tell me what’s going on.” She obeys, but neither she nor Corey speak. “Well? What’s Peter up to this time?”

“We’re not supposed to say anything.” It’s Corey who speaks up, clearing his throat.

“You know I won’t let him touch either of you.” Derek’s expression turns serious. “This must be bad. Where’s Braeden? I couldn’t find her.”

“Peter took her with him.” Another man enters the room. Liam recognizes him as Boyd, one of the older kids who’d dealt for Peter. The two of them have never spoken, but Boyd never seemed to talk much at all.

“He took her  _and_  Kincaid on a scout?” Derek questions, disbelievingly.

“Not a scout.” Brett’s voice cuts through the air as he turns his head, wincing in pain.

_Good. You deserve to be in pain._  He feels guilt at the thought.  _Stop feeling sorry for him._

“Who’s this?” He doesn’t acknowledge Brett, instead looking to Boyd.

“Your sister’s boyfriend.” Brett spits more blood onto the floor. “Nice to meet you.”

“Cora?” Derek looks directly at him now, sizing him up. “You’re Brett?”

“She talked about me?” Liam hates the smile that comes to Brett’s lips.

“Where is she? Is she okay?” Derek moves to kneel beside Brett, looking at him with a mix of fear and hope.

“She’s dead.” Brett says smoothly, but there’s a brief spark in his eyes that Liam recognizes as guilt. “She’s been dead for about nine months.”

Derek’s face falls in a crushing way that takes what’s left of Liam’s heart with it. He looks to the others for confirmation.

“Peter went to retrieve her corpse.” Boyd says, his voice low and respectful. “They,” he nods at Liam, “claim to have put her down. Peter went to make certain.”

“He should have waited until I got back.” Derek growls, briefly glancing back at Brett. “How did she die?”

“Bit from behind.” He shrugs. “I froze. Wasn’t able to react in time to save her.”

Derek nods, slowly. The way he’s looking at Brett shifts before Liam’s eyes; losing all emotion beyond contempt.

“What about that one?” He looks at Liam.

“Liam. He was one of us.” Corey explains, before the others have a chance to say anything.

“Why’s he tied up?” Derek questions.

“Peter left him behind. He’s the one who left Violet after she got shot and Garrett died.” Boyd answers.

“Cut him loose.” Derek orders, ignoring the looks of trepidation he gets. “I’ll deal with my uncle, when he gets back.”

“But Derek-” He silences Tracy with a single look.

“I didn’t ask for feedback.” His tone is kind, but authoritative. “I gave an order.”

“Derek, my friend.” Another unknown man crowds into the room, tailed closely by Erica and Violet. “I’m going to have to object to that.” Liam can’t place his accent, but it’s definitely south of Texas.

“Well, I guess it’s a good thing I don’t care what you think then.” Derek smiles with blatant disrespect. “Boyd, cut him loose.”

“Boyd, you know Peter will be pissed.” Erica interrupts, keeping herself shielded behind the other man.

Boyd looks at Derek and silent words seem to pass between them, before the dark skinned man moves to Liam’s side and saws the ropes off his wrists.

“Thanks.” Liam eyes the room warily, rubbing at his bright red skin.

“Out.” The Hispanic man barks at Tracy and Corey. “All of you, clear the room now.”

Corey and the three girls file out of the room without hesitation, but Boyd looks to Derek again – receiving a small nod in return – before he follows the others.

“You’re playing a dangerous game.” The man breathes, fingers twitching towards the hilt of the machete at his side.

“You gonna kill me, Severo?” Derek lifts his brows, not moving from his relaxed stance. “If my sister’s really dead, Peter has no other family left. He’d have you strung up and gutted for it.”

“We’re all his family now.” Severo spits.

Liam sits up and tries to stretch his aching muscles, discreetly.

“If you think of us as family, we should just kill you now, before you do to us what you did to your last family.”

“Say that again.” Severo steps forward, but Derek still doesn’t react.

“Run along now.” Derek smirks at him, but he doesn’t move. “Leave.” Liam tries not to flinch at the change in his voice. It’s almost terrifying in its intensity and matches the new posture he adopts, perfectly. “Now.”

_And that would be where the rumors come from,_  Liam thinks, recalling the stories of Peter’s nephew who handled the most delicate situations with deadly intent.

Severo’s face turns red in resentment, but he huffs and storms out of the room – muttering a string of curses along the way.

“Seems like a nice guy.” Brett jokes, getting two irritated looks in return.

“You thirsty?” Derek asks Liam. “Have they fed you?”

“No. They dragged us in and stayed for a bit to do that.” He gestures to Brett’s appearance. He definitely isn’t doing so well.

“I’ll get you some water and something to eat. You’re free for now, just don’t try anything dumb.” The looks he gives Liam ensures that he absolutely won’t try anything dumb.

“Okay. Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” He calls over his shoulder, leaving the room.

He and Brett are alone now, sitting in the quiet until Liam can’t handle the tension anymore.

“Why?”

“Why what?” Brett doesn’t even look at him.

“You know.” Liam tries to keep his voice from cracking.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about, kid.”

“Stop calling me kid.” He sits forward on the cot, trying to get a better look at Brett’s face. “You’re being a prick.”

“You’re being delusional . . . we were never friends. I feel bad and all, but it looks like I’m dying soon, so you should probably get over it already.”

“You’re not dying.” Liam states, despite knowing that it’s not his decision.

“I appreciate the sentiment.” He finally looks up at Liam, blue eyes meeting blue eyes for a brief moment. “Really do. But I doubt they’ll take your advice on it.”

“I’m not in love with you.”

Brett smirks, irritatingly, at Liam’s words. “That’s good.” He nods. “I’m not in love with you either.”

Liam’s about to demand that he explain himself, when Derek appears and tosses Liam a bottle of water, a jar of peanut butter, and a pack of crackers.

“Eat as much as you want.” Derek says, seemingly pleased that Liam hasn’t moved off the cot. “I’ll try to get you situated in a room upstairs tomorrow, but the cot will have to do until we clear it with my uncle.”

“Thanks.” Liam says, looking down at the single bottle of water.

“You can share with him if you want.” Derek notes. “But we can’t spare anything extra for someone who isn’t one of us. Your call, though. I’ll be right upstairs, shout if you need anything.”

Derek’s gone again and Liam tries to process how he can even be related to Peter.

“Keep it.” Brett interrupts his thoughts. “I’ll be dead soon, no use wasting water.”

“Who said I was even thinking about it?” He uncaps the bottle and takes a deep sip, closing his eyes at the feel of the water sliding down his dry throat.

Brett doesn’t say anything else as Liam takes another sip and starts in on the crackers. Liam tries not to think about him as he eats, but he can’t help but notice that huge smile out of the corner of his eye.

“What?” He demands, mouth full of peanut butter and crackers.

“Nothing.” Brett shakes his head, trying to put on a straight face. “Just watching you eat.”

“Get fucked.” Liam eats another cracker, but now his thoughts are only on Brett. Sitting there, tied up, beaten and bleeding, and smiling at him eating.

“What’re you doing?” Brett immediately loses his smile as Liam gets off the cot to sit on the floor beside him.

“Making sure you don’t starve to death. Shut up.” Liam takes a final small sip of water, knowing that Brett probably needs the water more than he does.

“I’m dead anyway, just fuck off.”

“You wanna stop being a jackass and eat or do I need to punch you in the balls?”

Brett looks at him helplessly.  _Low blow. Literally._

“Good, here.” He presses the bottle against Brett’s lips and he almost drains it, greedily. “Feel less cranky?” He asks, after Brett’s done coughing.

The older boy spits some more blood onto the floor, but it looks less dark this time.  _He should be drinking more water, his throat’s probably torn up from yelling so much last night and then getting the shit kicked out of him._

“You really shouldn’t be feeding me.” Brett eyes the crackers and Liam can almost hear his mouth watering.

“He said I could.” Liam shrugs, pressing a cracker into Brett’s mouth, while being careful to avoid touching his lips.

“Probably a test.” Brett mumbles, swallowing.

“Told you I was bad at those.” Liam gives him another cracker. “Almost failed freshman year, remember?”

“Thank god for the apocalypse.” Brett smiles.

“Pretty much.” Liam agrees, without the smile.  _What’s going on?_

Brett notices his confusion and quickly loses the smile. “Thanks and all, but I’d like to contemplate my last hours alone.”

“Not your last hours.” Liam mumbles, automatically. “Keep eating.”

Brett tries to object, but Liam shoves a peanut butter covered cracker into his mouth.

He alternates between feeding himself and Brett, using his fingers to spread peanut butter on the crackers. He hasn’t had peanut butter in forever – he never even really liked it before, but it suddenly became a rarity in the apocalypse.

_“High fat content, long shelf life.”_  Garrett said to him, back when he was first teaching Liam how to survive.

“I’m not even going to comment on how gross this is.” Brett finishes swallowing and watches Liam smooth more peanut butter onto a cracker with his index finger. “When was the last time you washed your hands?”

“Hasn’t stopped you from eating.” Liam shrugs, shoving the cracker into Brett’s mouth.

“I don’t wanna get punched in the balls.” Brett’s eyes are playful, but Liam ignores the look, instead making Brett drink the rest of the water.

“Gotta piss.” He stands up, dusting his jeans off. “I’ll be back.”

“Liam.” Brett calls before Liam can get to the door.

He half-turns and lifts his brows at the older boy. He looks conflicted, opening his mouth then shutting it.

“Be careful. I’m still hungry and I can’t really feed myself like this.” He rocks his shoulders back against the wooden beam.

“Yep.” Liam rolls his eyes and heads out the door.

_Definitely a warehouse_.

He heads up a short, narrow stairwell, emerging into a large open area. There’s a metal staircase off against the wall, which leads up to a large platform that takes up half of the ceiling space. Besides that it’s mostly empty, outside of two sleeping bags, a few doors at the opposite end of the room, and several huge dock bay doors.

“Derek?” He questions, afraid to make too much noise. He hadn’t thought too much about this move, but his bladder isn’t accommodating the dangerous situation he’s in.

A second later, one of the doors opens up and Derek appears.

“Can I help you?” He calls, taking only a few steps towards Liam.

“I, uh, need to use the bathroom.” He stutters, feeling the stupid statement roll off his tongue.

“Okay?” Derek squints at him. “So go. You’re old enough that you don’t need a bathroom buddy, right?”

“Yeah,” Liam feels his face heat, “I just-”

“Asking for permission.” Derek nods, not quite smiling, but not completely neutral either. “Got it. I appreciate it. You’re free to move about as you’d like, but I’d strongly advise against making a break for it. Severo’s out on sentry right now; he catches you outside the perimeter and there won’t be much I can do to help you.”

“Okay . . . thanks.” Liam says, feeling small and awkward. His feet carry him across the room, quickly. He pushes open the door labeled  _‘EXIT’_  and scans the area.

He’s got absolutely no idea where they are, but it looks as rundown and scary as the rest of Boston.  _God, I hate this city._ He hurriedly picks out a bush a few yards away and rushes to it, before he pisses himself.

Once he’s finished, he zips up and heads back towards the door – only to find Erica blocking his way.

“Not gonna run?” She asks, sounding like she wouldn’t actually care if he did.

_Maybe I should._

“No.” He tries to get around her, but she leans in his path.

“Why not? Heard your boyfriend dumped you.” She doesn’t let him dispute the label. “It’s what you deserve, you know? After what you did to Violet and Garrett.”

“I didn’t do anything.” He bares his teeth and clenches his fists. “Get out of my way.”

“Or what? Gonna kill me the way you did Garrett?”

“I didn’t-”

“Kill Garrett and leave Violet to die on her own?” Erica purses her lips, “But here’s the thing, you kinda did do exactly just that.”

“We went back for her.” Liam wants to stop trying to justify himself to her, but she’s not moving out of the way and he doesn’t want to hurt her.

“I’m sure. They should’ve just left you in the first place, but they didn’t. They stayed behind because they were your friends and what did you give in return? You abandoned them for a stranger, you shot Vi and left her for dead, and then you killed Garrett.” She gives a shake of her head, seeming pleased by the hatred burning in Liam’s eyes. “Peter won’t take you back. It’ll tear the family apart.”

“Good. Don’t want to be a part of your  _family_.” He spits.

“Why didn’t you run then?” She smiles, suggestively. “You still love him. Cute.”

“I barely know him.” Liam regrets even allowing this conversation, more so with every word that leaves his mouth.

“Oh, Liam . . . that only makes it more pathetic.”

“Get the fuck out of my way.” He shoulders past her, roughly shoving her to the side.

He’s just inside the door when she grabs at the collar of his shirt, yanking him backwards.

“You pushed me!”

He twists out of her reach and slams her against the wall, trapping her wrists above her head. “Don’t ever fucking touch me again.”

She’s sweating now and Liam can see the fear in her eyes, but it’d take more than a little scare to make Erica drop her bitch routine.

“I can see it now.” Her voice is low and savage. “I heard you were crazy, but I never really believed it until now. This how you killed Garrett? Got all angry and twitchy like you are now?”

Liam feels his face twist in anger and his free hand pull back. He restrains himself from actually hitting her though.

“What’s the matter? Scared?”

_She’s provoking you. Don’t let her._

“Go ahead, Liam. Hit me the way daddy always hit you.”

_Fuck you, bitch._

He loses it and his fist flies forward, stopping only an inch from her face when a large hand grabs his arm. His knees are knocked out from under him and he ends up on the floor, arm twisted backwards, with someone breathing in his ear.

“You’re lucky, I got here when I did.”

“Boyd, he was going to kill me!” Erica cries, on the verge of tears.

_Manipulative bitch._

“I’m sure.” The weight is let off of Liam’s back and he’s pulled up to a sitting position. “And I’m sure you were completely innocent in that.” He eyes her, critically. “Go back upstairs.”

“Boyd-”

“That wasn’t a request.” He silences her and she scurries away, up the metal stairs.

Liam looks up at Boyd, after she’s out of sight. “Sorry.”

“Wasn’t your fault.” Boyd’s giving him an odd look. It kind of seems like pity to Liam. “Not completely. You should get back downstairs. “

“Yeah.” Liam gets to his feet, examining Boyd for a second before turning and going back towards the stairwell.

He’s right outside the room, ready to collapse into his cot and wait for Peter to return and kill him, when he hears Derek inside.

“She loved you.” Derek notes.

Liam stops and listens at the door.

“I loved her too.” Brett doesn’t sound as distant as before; he actually sounds kind of vulnerable.

“She’s really dead?”

“She is.” Brett’s confirmation is met with a long stretch of silence.

“Peter’s going to be tough to deal with when he returns. He’d had his eye on Cora as his successor; now he’s stuck with me.” He lets out a short bark of laughter.

“She wouldn’t have agreed with any of this.” There’s absolute certainty in Brett’s voice, but he’s not using it to fight for his life.  _He’s resigned to dying._  “She didn’t love Peter.”

“She should have.” Derek doesn’t dispute the claim. “He’s the one who was financing her philosophy career.”

The two of them laugh together and Liam suddenly feels like an intruder. Like he’s tainting a memory that doesn’t belong to him.

“She did love you and Laura, though.” Brett says. “More than anything else. She wanted me to go home with her over the summer to meet both of you.”

“I know.” Derek nods. “She threatened to ruin my life if I tried to scare you . . . looks like I’ve lost two sisters now.”

“I’m sorry.” Brett’s tone in genuine. “Laura . . ?”

“Died when she was scouting with Peter.” Derek sighs. “He said she was bitten.” His skepticism is clear. “Now he’s the only family I’ve got left.”

“Can I ask a favor?”

Derek doesn’t answer right away and then he’s suddenly standing in front of Liam. “He’ll be alright.” He calls over his shoulder, before nodding at Liam and heading up stairs.

Liam enters the room slowly. Brett’s still tied to the beam, but he hasn’t been hurt any worse.

“What was your favor?” Liam asks, dryly.

“Misunderstood.” The vulnerability in Brett’s face vanishes in an instant. “I was gonna ask for a thirty second head start.”

“Sucks.” Liam sits next to him again. “Still hungry?”

“All set.” Brett avoids looking at him.

Liam feels like he’s being punched in the gut each time that Brett refuses to acknowledge him or their . . . whatever it is.  _Friendship_.

“Fine.” He gets to his feet and lays down on the cot, face first.

The tears that come are soaked into the dirty fabric beneath him and he tries to keep quiet, but the few sobs that shake his body are dead giveaways.

Still, Brett says nothing.

* * *

_He’s going to kill us_ , Liam thinks when he sees Peter appear in the doorway. He’s framed by other figures, all crowding behind him to see what he’s going to do.

His face is twitching, alarmingly, and there’s blood on his neck. His veneer of power and composure from earlier is broken by his current ragged appearance.

_He survived and he’s going to kill us._

“You don’t look so good.” Brett mocks. “Run into some trouble?”

Peter charges forward with a roar, wrapping a hand around Brett’s neck and swinging the other at his face.

The violent sound of flesh impacting flesh makes Liam’s stomach turn. The sight of Peter repeatedly striking Brett across the face is even worse.

“Stop!” Liam hurries to Brett’s side and throws himself at Peter – who is completely caught off guard.

They roll to the ground and Liam tries to hold him down, but his momentary advantage is gone and Peter’s a lot bigger than he is. He ends up with a knee pinning his neck to the ground.

“Who cut him loose?!” Peter demands, pressing harder and cutting off Liam’s oxygen when he struggles.

_He’s gonna crush my windpipe. He’ll suffocate me to death._

“I did.” Derek steps forward. “Get off of him, Peter.” He speaks, calmly.

“I should kill him simply for you presuming to give me an order.” Peter hisses.

“You didn’t bring her body back. You couldn’t find it?” Derek ignores him.

“Oh, we found it, not that we had the chance to retrieve it.” Peter’s neck snaps to glare at Brett. “Your baby sister is most definitely dead. Beheaded to be precise. Now Donovan’s joined her.”

_Brett knew that could happen when he sent them into the hands of those Fenway people. He’d just hoped Peter would get killed as well . . . can’t say I wasn’t wishing for the same._

“What happened?” Derek’s a little closer now.

“We followed his directions like imbeciles, running straight into a trap.”

“A trap?” Derek looks at Liam, questioningly. “He has people?”

“A good number, I’d say.” Peter bares his teeth and leans closer to Liam’s face. “Enough to pin us down. Poor Donovan was shot in the leg and had to be left to the undead for the rest of us to escape.”

“You left him?”

“We had no choice, nephew.” Peter snaps. “We were pinned down.”

“It’s true, Derek.”

The woman who’d kidnapped them in the first place, appears. Her eyes pass over both Liam and Brett. She didn’t seem as violent as Peter or Erica, but she was the one who’d beaten the shit out of Brett at first. However, she’d stopped as soon as he’d stopped resisting.

“Braeden.” Derek brushes aside his concern for Liam, stepping close to her and touching a scrape on her head. “What happened?”

She smirks. “Things got a little bit more fun than usual.” She shrugs off his worry. “Those guys were no joke.”

“Is everyone else alright?” Derek asks, looking to the group to count heads.

“Donovan was our only casualty.” Peter says, flippantly. “He died while you were accommodating our prisoners.”

“Off of him, Peter.” Derek states. “Now.”

Peter looks to Derek, before rolling his eyes with a sigh. “Your soft heart will be the death of us all.”

Derek helps his uncle up, before glancing at Liam – who’s trying to catch his breath and not cough his lungs up.

“Get up.”

“Gladly.” Liam clambers to his feet, rubbing at his neck.

“You let my people walk into a trap.” Derek glares at him, all traces of kindness gone from his face. “A kid was killed, because of you.”

“They’re not his people.” Brett once again sucks up all the attention in the room. “They’re mine.”

_Does he ever stop lying?_

“That’s good to know. I hope they’ll enjoy our return gift.” Peter grabs Brett by the hair and yanks his head backwards. “When we cut your head off and leave it in the street the way you did to my niece.”

Liam looks to Derek, hoping he’ll intervene, but the older man’s eyes hold no more sympathy.

Peter draws his knife and caresses it down Brett’s neck. Liam can see the panic in his eyes, but only because he knows what it looks like. To the others he probably looks as calm and serene as he always does.

“He’s lying to you.” Liam says.

“I’m shocked.” Peter looks at Liam with little interest.

“About those people.” Liam continues, disregarding the glare Brett’s shooting him. “They’re not his people.”

“Who are they?” Derek demands.

“Don’t know.” Liam shrugs. “Just some people who use Fenway Park as a base. We’ve been avoiding them.”

“And you sent us in without a warning?” Peter’s grip on Brett loosens, slightly.

“You were talking about killing us.” Liam reasons.

“Still am, pup.” Peter looks at Brett, slamming his fist into the side of his head for a final time, before releasing him.

Liam fights the urge to rush to Brett’s aid.  _He’s tough. He can handle himself._

_He’s a liar. He doesn’t want your help._

“He has a point.” Derek chimes in.

“How much do you know about this group?” Peter ignores his nephew. “How many people do they have?”

“I’m not sure.” Liam tries to keep steady under Peter’s heavy scrutiny. “Only know what he told me.”

Liam’s eyes fall on Brett.  _He looks like shit_. His split lip is bleeding again, most of his face is swollen and red, dried blood and sweat mat his hair, but none of that stops him from giving Liam a hard look.

“We need him.” Derek says, but Liam’s surprised to see him not pointing at Brett, but to himself. “He obviously knows more than he’s saying right now.”

“He may have some use.” Peter nods. “More so as a token to make the other talk.”

“Think you’re out of luck there.” Derek gestures to Liam. “Look at them. They look like they’re on good terms to you?”

Peter turns to examine the both of them, making Liam fidget nervously and turn away from Brett.

“You let them break up?” Peter sounds disappointed.

There’s snickers from behind Derek and Liam knows it’s Erica and Violet.  _Fuck them._

“I can make the tall one talk.” Severo offers with a gleam in his eyes. “Give me five minutes.”

“You’re not torturing him. Not yet.” Derek barks at the other man.

Peter sighs in irritation. “Everyone upstairs. Now. We’re going to have a little family discussion.”

They begin to file out of the room, leaving Liam standing there like an idiot.

“Kincaid, as much as I’m sure you have plenty to say on the topic,” There’s a few chuckles from the others, “I’d like you to remain outside the door and make sure there’s no escape attempts. If the feisty one tries anything, kill him.”

Then the two of them are alone again.

“You shouldn’t have told them.” Brett says, angrily.

“He was going to kill you.” Liam defends. “You might be an asshole, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let you die.”

“You should have . . .” Brett looks powerless, but still heated. “Stupid kid.”

“Fuck you.” Liam growls at him. “I’m saving your life.”

“Didn’t ask you to.”

“And I didn’t ask you to save me.” Liam advances on him. “You still did. Saved me, brought me home, and kept me alive for two weeks too.”

“You heard them. Knew I needed to keep an eye on Peter’s people.”

“That’s not true.” Liam balls his fists up, uncertain of his words. “You were my friend. You stitched me up, when you could have let me die. We’re friends.”

There’s a brief flash of emotion on Brett’s face that gives Liam some hope, but the older boy shakes his head and lets out a sigh.

“Get some rest, kid. It’s gonna be a long day.”

It is a long day. Hours pass and there’s still no word from Peter or Derek. The sounds of argument have long since faded and that only makes Liam’s unease grow even greater.  _What are they doing?_

He can barely contain his sigh of relief when Corey finally steps into the room.

“What’s going on?” Liam jumps to his feet.

“Sit down.” He does and Corey comes to sit next to him, looking at his clasped hands. “Derek’s not going to let anything happen to you. He’s a different story.” He notices Liam staring at the back of Brett’s head.

“They can’t kill him. He knows more than I do about Fenway.”

Corey gives him a sad smile. “Peter doesn’t like to lose. He thinks we need to avenge Donovan . . . and Garrett.” He’s careful when saying the name, judging Liam’s reaction. “He wants to use him as a decoy to lure some of those guys into an ambush. We’re all going. Even you.”

Liam can see Brett’s shoulders tense.

_He’s afraid. Of course he’s fucking afraid, they want to dangle him in front of his worst nightmare. He doesn’t deserve that . . . but he’s not helping me. If we worked together we could figure something out._

“Why would I do that? I’m not going to let them do that.”

“Derek had to fight for you.” Corey places a hand on his shoulder, but Liam shrugs it off. “When it comes to the outsider, there isn’t any room to negotiate. Peter wants justice.”

_It’s not justice to kill someone who hasn’t done anything wrong. I’m the reason Garrett’s dead, not Brett. He put Cora to rest, he didn’t kill her. I fought Garrett for the gun, I shot Violet, not him. I should be the one dying._

“Can you get me a cloth and some water?” He asks, instead of arguing over something useless.  _He’s not going to die like that. He deserves better._

“Why?” Corey follows his gaze to Brett’s beaten form. “There’s no point-”

“You want me to be a part of your family?” Liam gives him a challenging look. “Do this for me.”

Corey thinks it over for a few seconds, but eventually relents. “Alright. I’ll be right back.”

“Anyway you can score some Tylenol too?” Liam asks, not wanting to push his luck, but knowing that Brett’s probably in a serious amount of pain.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Brett’s still silent after Corey leaves. Liam expected him to interrupt again about leaving him alone, but he doesn’t. He’s just sitting there, head down, knees pulled up against him.

Liam gets up and sits beside him, but doesn’t speak, not until Corey returns and hands him a metal bowl filled with water and an old washcloth.

“Your bags locked up in Peter’s office and Derek’s in the infirmary; couldn’t get you any pills.” He doesn’t sound that apologetic, but Liam thanks him anyway. “Want me to hang around?”

“No.” Liam shakes his head.

“Alright.” Corey moves to pat his shoulder, but halts and pulls his hand away. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” And then he’s gone.

_You’re not dying alone,_  Liam thinks.

“Lift your head up.” He says, dipping the cloth into the water before wringing it out.

Brett does so, unexpectedly.

“Waste of water.” He mumbles, hissing as Liam presses the cloth to his cheek.

“Yeah, well you look like shit.” That gets a smile, but it doesn’t last as Liam continues his efforts to clean off the dried blood.

_He’s gonna have some pretty bad bruises._  He uses his free hand to grab Brett’s neck, trying to hold him still.

Brett tenses at his touch, but he lets Liam continue.

“Why are you helping me?” Brett asks, not looking at him.

“You’re my friend.” Liam states, gently brushing at a particularly red spot on his face. “You’re being a dick, but you’re my friend.”

“I said some pretty shitty things to you.” Brett winces as Liam brushes near his swollen eye.

Liam makes a noise in agreement, trying to focus. Brett’s arms being secured behind him for almost an entire day is definitely straining his muscles and he looks completely beat. If Liam had a knife he’d cut him loose, let him stretch out his arms and ignore the punishment he’d receive later on.  _I’m not staying with them anyway. Not if they kill Brett._

He rinses out the cloth and cleans away the blood on the taller boy’s neck, ignoring the hitch in Brett’s breathing.

“Sting?”

“Nah, tickles.” Brett smirks and gives Liam a look that makes his stomach do a flip.

Bringing the wet cloth back to Brett’s face he spends a few seconds cleaning his forehead, before briefly scrubbing it over his scalp.  _What he really needs is a shower._  He slicks the older boy’s hair back, watching how it curls more than normal when it’s wet. Liam’s hand moves up to cup his chin and he disregards the curious look in Brett’s eyes.

“Is my torture almost over?” He asks, pouting.

“Not yet.” Liam wipes his chin and mouth clean. “They really fucked you up. I can’t believe your nose isn’t broken.”

“Don’t jinx me.” Brett smiles.

_Stop doing that. Stop letting him make you feel like this._

“I’m sorry.” Brett shocks him with the apology. “For saying those things . . . didn’t mean them.”

“I know.” Liam says, slowly. “You wanted me to leave you. Try to fit in here.” He’s not sure when he figured it out, but it’s the only thing that makes his erratic behavior have any type of sense.

“Still do.” Brett replies. “Derek seems like he’ll keep you safe and it looks like you’ve already got something going with Corey.”

Liam shakes his head, smiling. “He’s nice, but, uh, I’m not interested. Not like that.”

“Keep an open mind.” Brett counsels. “Remember the trick I taught you, for your I.E.D.”

Liam recalls the little chant and breathing exercise that Brett had done with him the other night.

_The sun, the moon, the truth._

“Why’re you changing your mind?” He asks, dropping the cloth back into the bowl. Brett looks mostly clean, though his face is varying shades of red and purple. “Telling me all of this?”

Suddenly, Brett’s lips are on his.

It lasts all of three seconds, before Brett pulls away and shoots him a sad smile.

“Sorry. Shouldn’t have done that.”

Liam’s in utter shock.

_Why? This doesn’t make any sense. Why would he turn me down the other night and kiss me now? He did . . . he kissed me?_

“I . . .”

_He wants to make you feel better before he dies; feel wanted for once. No. He wouldn’t do that, he’d be worried I’d do anything to save him. Why then?_

It feels like everything that Liam’s known for these past few weeks has been completely upended. Brett just kissed him.

“Just didn’t wanna die without doing it again, you know?” He’s got a small smile on his lips.  _Soft lips._ “I’m dying. Figured I could be a little selfish.”

“I don’t understand.” He searches Brett’s face for an explanation.

“You don’t remember your birthday night do you?” Brett nods at his bewildered expression. “Figured as much. I kissed you back.” He looks like a guilty kid. “When you didn’t seem to remember, I figured it was for the best. But before that – after I kissed you – I told you we’d talk about it in the morning.”

“You kissed me?”

“Twice now.” Liam can’t help but return the stupid grin on Brett’s face.

“Why?” He’s trapped between doubting what he’s hearing, the tug he feels in his heart, and the growing fear of the reality that he’s going to lose Brett.

“I like you. A lot, actually. More than I’d ever thought I could.”

“You didn’t tell me.”

“You’re only seventeen.” Brett explains. “We’d just put Cora down. I didn’t wanna fuck up our karma . . . if that makes any sense. Little too late for that now, so I figured, fuck it.” His eyes are trained on Liam’s, but the he doesn’t look away. “It was definitely worth it, by the way.”

“Brett . . .” Liam’s at a complete loss for words.

_He likes me. Someone likes me . . . not just someone, but Brett. Brett likes me. Brett kissed me._

“Promise me you’ll be smart when I’m gone.” Brett looks like he wants to reach out to him, but his bound wrists prevent that. “I won’t rest easy unless I know you’re going to be careful.”

“Fuck you.” Liam breathes, leaning forward and crashing their lips together.

It’s rougher than the first and Brett responds in kind. Liam let’s Brett take the lead and follows his guidance, letting the older boy’s tongue inside of his mouth. He brings his hand up to Brett’ jaw, grabbing it tightly to get more leverage. If it hurts Brett, he doesn’t show it.

Liam had only ever really kissed Hayden before this and it’s a completely different experience. Brett definitely knows what he’s doing a lot better than she ever did.  _Better than I do too._

He feels a little self-conscious, trying to keep up with Brett’s tongue and figure out how to breathe simultaneously.

It’s not long before he needs to sit back to catch his breath and he pulls away.

Brett’s breathing heavily, his lips shiny with saliva.

“I’m not letting you die.” Liam swears. “We’re going to get you out of this.”  _Whatever it takes._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took so long! I really wanted to get the ending right and I'm not all that used to writing kidnapping stories, but it was really fun! I'm excited to get to determined Liam trying to save Brett and for them to figure things out, now that they've kissed.


	9. En Passant

**Brett’s POV**

It’s been a long night to say the least. Brett hasn’t slept one wink and neither has Liam, but that doesn’t matter right now. If everything goes according to plan neither of them will be dying today.

_If not . . . keep Liam safe._  He glances up, sending out the prayer to . . .  _God? The universe? Doesn’t matter. Just keep him safe if I can’t._

He can almost feel Liam’s dry lips against his own and all he wants is to be able to kiss him again and again, for as long as Liam will let him. Right now, however, he needs to be prepared. Not that he can do much – with his hands bound behind this fucking beam – but hopefully that’s about to change.

The plan isn’t a solid one, but it’s all they were able to come up with.  _Maybe if we’d spent less time making out and more time thinking, we’d be in a better position,_  he thinks,  _and yet I wouldn’t do it different if I could. If I’m dying today, well . . . at least my last day was worth living._

_Liam is pretty good at kissing_. He’d been tentative at first, letting Brett take control, but it hadn’t taken much to get him to really go for it. He’s definitely inexperienced . . .  _but enthusiasm counts for a lot_.

Footsteps alert him to phase one of the plan: _get my ropes cut_.  _Phase one?_  It’s really the only phase if he’s being honest, but somehow calling it phase one makes him feel better.

His breathing takes more effort to control and his forehead breaks out in a sweat as he waits to see who’s coming down.  _Corey, Corey, Corey, Corey, Corey._

Corey steps into view and Brett has to force himself not to sigh in relief. Instead he tries to affect an air of nonchalance.

“Where’s Liam?” Corey asks, finding no trace of the younger boy in the room. He’s holding a water bottle and a half-empty pack of crackers in his hands.

“Went to take a leak.” Brett barely looks at him.

Corey steps further into the room, closer to Brett.

“I’m sorry, about all of this.” He says, completely throwing Brett off balance. “You had me fooled at first, but I saw the look you gave him when he asked me to get you water. You care about him.”

“I do.” Brett affirms, not so much for Corey, but for Liam – who’s just now trying to silently close the door. “Don’t suppose that changes anything?”

“He’ll be alright.” Corey declines to answer. “Derek and Boyd are good people to have on your side.”

“What about that guy, Severo?” Brett questions. The dude had made the hair on the back of his neck stand up;  _he’s definitely a seriously fucked up human being._  “And the girls. They’re going to torture the hell out of him.”

“Erica just likes to cause trouble, and Violet can’t stay mad at him forever. They were friends before.” Brett tries not to show any signs of victory on his face as Liam gets the door shut without any audible sound. “Severo’s . . . Derek knows how to control him.”

“Seems like his leash might need to be tightened a little bit.” Brett suggests, coughing to muffle the sounds of Liam’s footsteps.

“He’s Peter’s yes-man. Murdered his entire family when they didn’t want to join us in Boston, but he’s only tied to Peter. None of us like him and we won’t let him do anything to Liam.”

“Family?” Brett asks, trying to buy a few more seconds. “Or  _Family_?”

Corey smirks. “Both. The Calavera Drug Cartel. Pretty terrifying before Severo got through with them, but he’s the only one left now. Sick bastard even killed his own mother.”

“I believe it.” Brett nods and meets Liam’s eyes.  _Now._

Liam wraps an arm around Corey’s throat and the other around his middle, while Brett kicks out his knees and sends the two younger boys to the ground.

Corey tries to call out for help, but Liam’s got a hand over his mouth. Brett watches as Corey bites down on Liam’s fingers, but the angry little guy stifles a cry and slams Corey’s body down against the hard ground.

“Let me go!” Corey’s voice is muffled, but carries across the small room.

“Stop struggling, then.” Liam’s on top of him, pinning his legs down with his own, one hand wrapped around Corey’s mouth and the other trapping his wrists above his head. It’s not a position he can hold for long.

They’ve rolled too far from Brett for him to be any help, so it’s up to Liam now. _C’mon shorty._

“You’re going to get yourself killed.” Corey sounds less panicked now, but he hasn’t stopped thrashing against Liam’s control, almost knocking him loose a few times.

“Not if you help me.” Liam grumbles and suddenly he has an opening. Corey’s thrown his chest forward in an attempt to dislodge him, leaving the hilt of the knife at his belt exposed.

Liam grabs it and jerks it free, while spectacularly managing to stay on the other boy. He brings the knife to his throat.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” He says, immediately, making Brett worry.  _He needs to be afraid of you, Liam._

“Mind letting me up then?” Corey’s voice shakes, but he doesn’t try to struggle anymore.

“Gonna call for help?”

“Nope.” Corey shakes his head, sweating profusely.

Liam gets off and helps Corey to his feet, in a move that terrifies Brett. He can’t argue without turning Corey away from them, but still . . . it’s risky.

“He’s not dying.” Liam states, strongly. “I’m not letting Peter kill him. We’re leaving.”

“They’ll find you again.” Corey looks desperate. “Liam, just give me back the knife and I’ll forget about this.”

“Not gonna happen.” He shoves Corey to the other side of Brett, so that he can’t try to make an escape while Liam sets to work at cutting Brett loose. “You said you’re my family? Well if he dies, I’m dying. Family doesn’t let each other die, right?”

“You’re going to get us all killed.” Corey argues, as Liam manages to cut through a few layers of rope and Brett gets some slack.

“No.” The last of the rope gives way and Brett’s able to pull his arms forward, his muscles screaming in agony. “Not if you come with us.”

_What?_

“What?” Corey echoes his sentiment. “I can’t . . . that’s ridiculous.”

_Ridiculous is an understatement._

“Look at us.” Liam gestures to Brett as he unsteadily gets to his feet and starts stretching out his arms,  _which fucking kill_. “We’re not killers and neither are you. You can’t make me believe you actually like being here. With _Peter_.”

“He’s kept us safe.”

“And me and Brett have kept each other safe.” Liam counters. “Even now, when everything’s against us. Would Peter still see you as family if his life were at risk? He left Donovan without a second thought.”

_Damn, kid. You might’ve been getting failing grades, but you sure as hell should have been on the debate team or something. Where the hell was this Liam yesterday?_

Brett stays out of the discussion, instead prioritizing getting his body ready for a potential fight. All of his muscles feel tense and probably need a solid hour of stretching – not just the handful of minutes they have. Not to mention he’s underfed and overtired, but he’s betting all of his hopes on surprise, Liam being a child-sized wrecking ball, and adrenaline.

He doesn’t trust Corey an ounce and really doesn’t want him tagging along, but Liam glances at him with certainty and Brett doesn’t want to crush that.  _He’s set on this plan. I’ll go along, for now. He’ll be helpful trying to get out of here at least._

Things look a little bit brighter when Corey looks back and forth between them, clearly conflicted.  _He knows Liam’s right. Peter doesn’t give a shit about him or any of them._

“Come with us Corey.” Liam pleads.

“Where?” Liam’s eyes shine with victory at the question. “Where could we even go? I’ve been out in the open before, it’s not something I’m going back to.”

“There’s a place in Cambridge.” Liam blurts out before Brett can stop him.

_Fucking hell, Liam._

“Liam.” He warns, grabbing his wrist. He quickly releases it when Liam tenses up.  _Kissing him may be okay, but clearly sudden touching isn’t . . ._

“He’s coming with us.” Liam recovers from his anger, attempting a smile, but it looks more like a grimace. “He needs to know. How else can he trust us?”

Brett doesn’t have an answer for that. He bites his lip and nods for Liam to continue.  _If he tries to turn on us, I’ll kill him. No way is Peter-fucking-Hale getting the loft._

“In Cambridge, there’s a loft. It’s where we were headed when Derek’s girlfriend got the drop on us. Brett and his friends fixed it up with running water and plenty of food.” Liam continues to offer the details of their last hope to this kid who Brett barely knows. “I’m sure it won’t be perfect, but it’s better than I’ve had since all this started. I’m sure it’s better than living in fear of Peter.”

“Fear’s kept us alive.” Corey edges back a bit.

“You had a boyfriend, right?” Brett barges into their conversation. He doesn’t like the direction it just took.  _Liam’s too nice._

“Lucas.” Corey confirms with a wary nod.

“He died.” Brett pushes, “You said he was bitten.”

“Brett-” Liam tries to stop his line of questioning, probably because of the distress on Corey’s face, but that’s exactly where Brett wants him.  _It’s fucked an all, he knows that, but he made a promise to keep Liam safe and he’s going to keep it, no matter what it takes._

“How did Peter react when he died?” He continues. “Did he let you stop to mourn him? Did he even put a bullet in his head to stop the change?”

The tears building up in Corey’s eyes are the only answers Brett needs.

“But look at how much he was willing to risk to bury Cora. He doesn’t see the rest of you as family. He left Liam behind, he left Donovan behind, he left Lucas behind, and I’m sure that’s only a fraction of the list, right?”

“Come with us, Corey.” Liam urges, stepping towards him and offering his hand. The other boy looks at it hopelessly, but grabs it and is pulled into a hug nonetheless.

Brett watches Liam embrace the other boy and feels a mix of emotions. He’s not necessarily jealous about it, – though he is wondering what the two of them might have had if he wasn’t around – in fact he’s actually sort of proud of Liam, weird as it might sound.  _He’s ignoring his own issues with physical contact to comfort someone who needs it._

“Let’s go.” Corey wipes at his eyes once he’s regained composure. “Fuck Peter.”

“Damn straight.” Liam nods. “Anyway you can grab more weapons? Just in case?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “They keep them locked up tight, no one’s allowed to carry a gun unless we’re out on scout.”

“How many people do y- does he have?” Brett barely avoids the mistake.  _He’s one of us now, according to Liam anyway,_  he reminds himself.  _Gotta treat him like it._ “You said there were heavy losses?”

“We’re down to fourteen.” He thinks for a moment, then shakes his head. “Twelve if you don’t count me or Donovan.”

_Why would we count Donovan?_  He pushes aside the thought; it must be strange to be in a group and lose one person at a time.  _I wonder when you realize they’re actually gone._  Judging by the look on Liam’s face, he’s pretty sure that twelve survivors means the number of dead must be staggering.

“Any idea on a quiet way out?” Brett asks. “We need to know the guard rotations, sentry posts, scouting routes, all of it.”

Liam gives him a look that he doesn’t care to interpret right now.  _We don’t have time to play softball._  Brett can see it in Corey’s eyes when he agreed to join them:  _he’s not as fragile as he seems._

“Uh, Kincaid took Sean and Josh out this morning, but everyone else is just . . . around.”

Brett looks at him incredulously.  _How have these idiots even stayed alive this long? No wonder they’ve lost so many._

“You’re certain? There’s no guard duties or anything?”

“No, just yesterday when I was stuck in here and Kincaid watched the door. Besides that, Peter’s too busy whispering with Derek or Severo to give us many orders.”

He and Liam trade guarded looks.  _If he’s telling the truth then this’ll be a hell of a lot easier than we’d planned for. If not, he’s leading us into a trap and we’re both dying. Not much room to back out now though._

“Thanks, Corey.” Liam gives him a smile, “I know this isn’t easy for you, but we need to get going.”

Brett doesn’t object to Liam holding onto the knife.  _He’s probably in better fighting shape than I am right now._  Still, he wishes he had something to at least defend himself with.

They leave the room in single file, Corey taking point and staying a few feet ahead of them. It’s not much, but he’ll be able to give them some type of warning if there’s someone at the top of the stairs.

The trio get lucky and there’s not even a single person on the ground floor of the warehouse.

_These people have serious security problems._

Voices are drifting down from the upper level, all caught up in casual conversation. The normalcy of it all is what strikes Brett the most.  _For a cruel tyrant Peter really doesn’t keep much order over his people._ Lack of structure was one of the biggest issues for large groups after the governments collapsed and it definitely explains why this group has dwindled so much.

_Corey’s lucky he’s getting out now. No way will they make it past winter._

He leads them to the nearest door and – after a little hesitation and caution – they slip outside, letting the door click shut behind them.

“Too easy.” Brett cautions, barely over a whisper, when he sees the bright look in Liam’s eyes.  _Man, I hate putting an end to that look._

Liam nods, gravely.

_I’ll make it up to you later._

The two follow Corey’s lead along the side of the building, until they can see the street curving in the distance. Brett doesn’t recognize the area.

“Where are we?” He murmurs.

“Dorchester.” Corey says, after a moment of thought. “I think that’s what he called it anyway.”

_Shit. It’ll be a long walk back to Cambridge. Nine, maybe ten miles, considering we’ll need to loop back through Allston to avoid Fenway and the herds Downtown._

He doesn’t let his face show any sign of upset, however. Liam’s looking at him and the younger boy’s obviously exhausted.  _There’s a safe house in Dorchester, it can’t be more than a mile from here. We can stop for a short break._

Brett knows it’ll be risky, getting some rest so close to the people they’re running from, but Liam doesn’t look like he can hold up until Cambridge. And Brett sure as fuck isn’t in any condition to be lugging the hundred and fifty –  _sixty?_  – pound teen through the streets of Boston.

“There’s a path this way, it’ll keep us off the main road almost to the park.” Corey starts to turn off in another direction, when Brett senses something’s off.

He quickly spins, just in time to see a large shape barreling into Liam and knocking him to the ground.

It’s Severo, who immediately draws his machete and advances on Brett – leaving Liam forgotten in the dirt.

“I’ve been waiting for this opportunity.” He swings a few lazy, wide arcs. “Gonna peel the skin from your bones.”

Brett takes a few steps backwards, but his eyes are on Liam. He’s still conscious and struggling to get to his hands and knees. At least he’s got the knife drawn.

He doesn’t want to make it obvious that Liam’s up, but he wishes he had the knife right about now.  _That machete looks sharp. Mine was getting a little bit dull, but this sick fuck probably sharpens his daily._

“Mijo.” Severo grins, showing off a mouthful of yellow-brown teeth. “I’m disappointed in you for betraying the family. I’ll be sure to be a little bit slower when I take your scalp.” He eyes Corey over Brett’s shoulder, predatorily.

“Corey, get back.” Brett places his body directly in front of the other boy’s.

“Brave!” Severo cheers, swinging forward at the same time as Brett dips backwards, narrowly avoiding having his guts spilled all over the dead grass. “I like it! Maybe I’ll keep your brave little heart as a trophy.”

Brett dodges another attempt, but it’s obvious the older man is toying with them. It wouldn’t take much for him to close the distance and hack Brett to pieces.

_Any time now would be perfect, Liam._

He’s not ready for the next swing and he can’t react fast enough. The sharp blade sails through the air, on a clear path towards his throat.

The air’s forced from his lungs when Corey’s weight slams into his side and knocks him to the dirt - just in time.

Only problem is that they’re now both at the feet and mercy of the sadistic old man.

“Youthful valor.” He chuckles, “It’s a little sickening if I’m being honest with you boys.”

Liam appears out of thin air, leaping towards the former cartel member and plunging the knife into his back.

Brett feels relief for the brief second when Severo’s eyes screw shut, but he quickly opens them and grits his teeth in rage.

_He missed everything vital,_  Brett realizes disappointedly.  _Of course he did, he’s never had to kill before. He doesn’t even know where to strike to kill. He probably wouldn’t have done it even if he’d known. Liam’s not a killer._

Severo turns with startling speed and punches Liam square in the jaw, knocking him to the ground like he provided no challenge at all.

Yet Liam only turns on him with a red face and bared teeth. His eyes are fierce in a way that Brett hasn’t seen before, as he struggles to his feet.

Brett jumps up, trying to keep steady and help Liam, but Corey’s tackle really did a number on what little endurance he has left.

Severo tries to catch Liam with the machete, but the smaller boy’s able to duck out of the way and rush him before he can make another attempt.

_He’s not strong enough to take him down._  Brett watches as Liam throws all of his weight against the older man, but he barely budges, instead capturing Liam in a head lock and twisting in a way that make’s Brett’s heart leap into his throat. Liam’s slammed onto the ground with a pained cry, but he curls onto his side.  _He’s alive._

“De mierda.” He spits on Liam, before facing Brett again.

_We need to keep him busy on all sides._

“Get up, Corey.” He urges and the younger boy does so.  _Liam’s down for now, but he’s tough. He won’t stay that way._

“I’ve had enough of you three.” Severo growls, yanking Corey’s knife from his shoulder and tossing it onto the ground.

“Feelings mutual.” Brett huffs.

“Bet it is.” He takes a few steps towards them, but Brett can see the slight wobble in his gait.  _We’ve got a shot._ “Don’t look so excited,” He chides, “I could butcher all three of you like the little maricónes you are.” His putrid grin gets wider. “I wasn’t sure about you at first, but I can see it now.” He makes a crude gesture. “I’m going to show you how a Calavera handles a fa-”

His words are cut off abruptly as a large chunk of metal materializes in the side of his throat.

_Liam. Thank god._  Brett’s relief turns to dread as he realizes what killing someone – even as rotten as Severo – would do to the kid.  _He did it to protect us. I’ll make him believe it. This is just another Garrett._

He’s shocked when the body collapses to the ground and it’s not Liam standing behind him, but Boyd.

“What?”

Boyd rips the machete from Severo’s throat, almost taking his head off in the process.  _That’s my machete._

“Always hated that guy.” Boyd shakes his head. “You’re welcome.”

“Boyd?” Corey asks, stepping closer.

“Liam.” Brett rushes to the other side of the gruesome scene, wrapping his arms around Liam and pulling him against his chest. “Fuck, Liam.” His hands grip at the boy’s hair and he presses his forehead into the crook of his neck.

“Get offa me.” Liam shoves him, but there’s no venom in his voice. “I’m fine.” His wince betrays the lie, but Brett stands nevertheless and helps him up.

“I’m good to, in case you were wondering.” Boyd states evenly.

“I don’t understand.” Brett’s still looking Liam up and down, but tries to turn his attention to Boyd when he’s certain that Liam’s mostly unharmed. “Why’d you help us?”

“I’ve got my reasons.” He answers with reserve. “We don’t have time to discuss those. You two need to leave here; quickly if you don’t mind.”

“He’s with us.” Liam declares, looking at Corey.

“No he’s not.” Boyd’s tone is adamant. “This was a momentary lapse of judgement, Corey. You’re a Hale.”

“Peter doesn’t care about us.” Corey contends, weakly. “Come with us.”

“Derek does.” The dark skinned man gives Corey a kind look. “Things are changing. Severo’s dead now. Donovan’s dead too. If you stay it’ll give Derek the upper hand against Peter. Think smart. Long term.”

Corey looks torn and Brett can see in his eyes that he’d really been hoping to go with them, but there’s also a bit of relief there.  _He’s comfortable here, with the people he knows. If there’s a chance for Derek to take charge, he’ll be better off here._

“How do you plan on explaining that?” Brett points to Severo’s body, watching the way the dark blood from his opened throat seeps into the soil beneath him. Probably poisoning the earth for generations.

“You killed him.” Boyd hands the machete back over to Brett, who’s grateful for the solid feel of the hilt in his palm. “This is yours too.” He tosses Brett his backpack, still heavy with his and Liam’s things.

“That’s it?” Liam questions, critically. “How’re you gonna explain us getting our things back? Or how we overpowered him and neither of you could stop us?”

Boyd shrugs, unconcerned. “Stole the key off me when I went to check on you. Corey’s not a fighter, your boy’s got reach, and I was injured.”

“But you’re not.” Liam points out.

Boyd looks at Brett, expectantly. “Go ahead.” He nods, “Nothing too deep.”

“Wait, what?” Liam looks at Brett, but the older boy ignores him.

“You’re sure?” He asks, steeling his nerves.

“No other way.” He states simply.

Brett takes a breath and then takes a step forward, disregarding Liam’s protests, and slashes forward in a controlled movement. Boyd hisses as the blade cleaves through the fabric of his shirt and a few layers of skin and fat, but Brett’s careful not to cut deep into the muscle or near any vital organs. Being medically trained has its perks, he figures.

“Brett!” Liam grabs his arm and he doesn’t resist.

Corey’s standing on the other side of Boyd, looking completely dumbfounded, but the injured man is already recovering from the pain of his wound and straightening himself out.

“It needed to be done.” Boyd warns Liam to keep his voice down. “It’s nothing major.” Still, there’s a decent amount of blood running down the hand he’s pressed to his midsection to staunch the flow. “You two need to vanish, now. Corey, help me back inside.”

Brett and Liam watch Corey obey and help support Boyd’s weight, before the pair begin to retreat towards the warehouse. Corey glances over his shoulder and Brett silently begs him to keep quiet about the loft and Cambridge.

_We’re completely fucked if he talks._

“He won’t say anything.” Liam says. “I know that’s what you’re worried about.”

“We need to go.” Brett gives Severo’s corpse one last look, before spitting on it the way he’d done to Liam. “I’ve had enough of this place.”

* * *

“We can stay here a few hours.” Brett smiles, watching Liam collapse onto the single couch in the apartment. “Tired?”

“Fuckin’ beat.” Liam mumbles through a face full of cushion.

“Can’t stay too long.” He cautions, taking a seat on the small sliver of couch that isn’t taken up. “We’re not going to make Cambridge today; I want to make sure we’re not being followed.”

“We could just run for it.” Liam suggest, sleepily.

“You feel up to an eight mile jog?” Brett laughs at his silence. “Thought so.”

Liam rolls onto his back and kicks his boots up onto Brett’s lap.

“Is this okay?” He asks, quickly, noticing the inquiring look Brett shoots him.

“‘Course.” Brett nods, smoothing a hand down the shin of Liam’s jeans. “You just don’t like being touched, is all.”

“Don’t care with you. Not like this, anyway” Liam shifts, stretching his back a little and settling into the lumpy couch.

He wonders what  _‘like this’_  means, but Liam looks beat and he doesn’t feel up to pursuing the line of questioning right now.

Brett eyes the stitches in his arm. He needs to clean them soon and reapply some of that ointment, but he doesn’t want to disturb the kid’s rest. They look decently clean at the moment anyway. Not to mention Liam looks a lot cuter when his eyes are shut peacefully and he’s not scowling.

“Stop staring.” He grumbles, without opening his eyes. “It’s creepy.”

“Can’t help it.” Brett smirks, squeezing Liam’s ankle. “You’re cute.”

Liam opens his eyes at that, his cheeks turning pink.

“Really?”

“Is that a real question? Of course.” He likes the gleam of pride in Liam’s eyes;  _that’s not something I see in him too often._

“You’re tired.” Liam’s smile dims a bit, probably noticing what must be massive dark circles under his eyes. “Lay down.”

“Where?” Brett teases.

“Behind me.” Liam slides over so that there’s – barely – enough room for Brett to fit in right behind him. “Like the first night.”

Brett doesn’t need a second invitation, he’s already squeezing into the small space and wrapping his arm around Liam’s waist.  _A little bit different from the first night, I hope._

“This . . .” Liam starts, but lets the word drift. “I’ve . . . never . . .”

“Let me know if it’s too much.” Brett says. “Just the word, Liam, and I’ll back off. Won’t leave you or nothing, just give you space.”

“I don’t want space.” Liam sounds confused at his own words. “I want you to kiss me again.”

Brett grins.  _Sleep can wait for a minute._

“Don’t need to tell me twice.” He’s leaning up and pressing his lips to Liam’s jawline, placing a few kisses there before trailing up to his lips.

Liam’s hands find places to rest on Brett’s hip and the back of his head, curling his fingers into Brett’s hair.

Brett nips at Liam’s lip with his teeth, before slipping his tongue inside. Liam might have been pliant at first, but he’s anything but gentle.  _His enthusiasm’s gonna wear me out . . ._

He tries not to react to the pain as Liam presses their lips together particularly hard, – stinging his split lip – but the younger boy leans back anyway, looking up at him with a guilty apology in his eyes.

“Sorry.” He mumbles.

“Never apologize for kissing me.” Brett leans down and gently places a soft kiss on his lips. “Even if it hurts.” They share a smile, before Brett leans back to his previous position.

“I thought you were straight.” Liam blurts out, just as Brett’s closed his eyes to try and sleep.

“Bi, I guess.” Brett murmurs, vaguely, kissing the side of Liam’s neck. “Go to sleep.”

“You said you never had a boyfriend.” Liam doesn’t listen.  _Am I even surprised anymore?_  “You told me a while ago . . . I thought you’d only ever been with Cora.”

“Had a few girlfriends.” Brett shrugs. “A few flings but no boyfriends, but neither have you. That make you straight?”

“I’m gay.” Liam assures him, sliding a hand up his ribs. “Definitely gay.”

“That’s good to know.” Brett chuckles, grabbing at Liam’s hand to stop its movement. “But stop that and go to sleep or I won’t be able to control myself.” It’s only half-joking; Liam’s definitely starting to send his blood flow south.

“I’m cool with that.” Liam says, eyes darting from Brett’s lips to his eyes.

_He looks like a horny kid ready to lose his virginity, despite not being ready for it._  Brett remembers the feeling all too well.

“You’re only seventeen.” Brett shakes his head with a smile. “You’re horny and dumb and need to get some sleep right now.”

Liam’s face turns a deep red and he looks disappointed.

“I’m not saying no.” Brett gets his attention. “Just not right now.” He brings up a hand to cup Liam’s jaw, kissing his lips one more time.

“How much farther is Cambridge? We’ll make it tomorrow right?” Liam looks tired, but there’s clearly more he wants to say and Brett doubts it’s about how far they need to walk.

“We should. There’s another safe house about a mile from here, where we can spend the night.” He shifts his body so that Liam’s head falls into the crook of his neck. Liam turns on his side – facing Brett – and encircles his arms around the older boy’s midsection.

“I really want a shower.” Liam scratches his head against Brett’s collarbone.

“I really want you to shower too.” He laughs at the look Liam shoots him. “What? You stink?”

“You don’t smell like flowers either.” Liam mumbles, nuzzling up to him despite his words.

Brett shushes him, kissing the top of his head and whispering, “Sleep” – already half-asleep himself. “Plenty of time to talk later.”

_Hopefully_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope the ending makes up for this one being so short! Promise I'll get to more fluff in the next chapter to make it up!!!


	10. Magnum Opus

**Liam’s POV**

_He needs more rest._  Liam watches Brett shift on the bed and begin to stretch his arms. He’s been awake for almost an hour, but hasn’t had much to do – besides polish off the last of the beef jerky and watch Brett sleep.

“Awake?” Liam asks as Brett’s eyelids flutter.

“Am now.” He sighs. “Come back to bed.”

“Shouldn’t we hit the road?” Liam’s tempted to crawl back into his embrace, but he’s more set on getting to Cambridge today. They left Dorchester yesterday and made it about halfway before the descending sun forced them into the nearest safe house.

_Which is fucking amazing._  If it weren’t close to Fenway, in a busy area, and Brett hadn’t made Cambridge sound like paradise, Liam would insist on staying here forever. Currently they’re on the thirteenth floor of some dorm building of a school Liam’s already forgotten the name of . . . but the view.  _I’ve never seen anything this huge._

He’d hated it at first and felt completely exposed, being so high up and with so many big glass windows, but he can’t deny that the view of the city from this high up is amazing. Brett had spent a good hour last night pointing out all of the major landmarks in the surrounding area to him.

_“What’re the big ones?” He’d asked, gazing up at the giant structures which dwarfed all the surrounding buildings._

_“Prudential Building,” Brett had pointed towards two buildings grouped close together, “the smaller one’s R2-D2.” He smiled at the look Liam had given him. “I don’t know its real name, but it looks like R2 right?”_

_“Yeah.” Liam said slowly, wondering what kind of city Boston had been in its life._

_“Anyway, that huge one’s the Hancock and that over there’s . . .”_

_He’d gone on for a while and Liam began to get a better feel for the city. Neither had pointed out the mass of corpses shuffling around in the streets further towards Downtown._

_At least there’s a bed. An actual bed too, not just a mattress on the floor or a couch._

Brett smiles, – pulling Liam out of his reverie – but shows no sign of getting up. “We’ve got all day. C’mere.”

“You’re worried that Corey told them.” Liam says, yet moves to take a seat on the bed nonetheless. “He wouldn’t do that.”

Brett mumbles something about him ruining the mood, but grabs his hand anyway.

It’s weird for Liam – having someone who wants to hold and kiss him. It’s completely foreign territory and he’s not so sure how comfortable he is with it. Not that he’s not into it, because he’s  _definitely_  into it, it’s just strange is all . . . it feels unreal.

He woke up early this morning and had a mini-panic attack that Brett was just leading him on, but all it took was one look at his sleeping face to disperse the thought.  _He’s not like that. He’s not Garrett._

“Stop thinking so much.” Brett’s eyes are open now and he’s watching Liam with a lazy smirk. “I can feel your brain melting.”

Liam smiles, sheepishly, looking down at their joined hands. “It’s just . . . weird.”

“Am I doing anything wrong?” Brett lifts himself up on his elbow, loosening his grip on Liam’s hand. “Just let me know, I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable.”

“No.” Liam quickly shakes his head. “It’s not that, it’s . . .  _that_. The way you’re acting. Nice and shit.”

“Not acting.” Brett looks a little relieved, settling back into the bed. “I like you. I’d really like you to get back under the covers with me.”

“You just want to steal my body heat.” Liam laughs.

“Well, yeah.” Brett reaches up to grab Liam’s neck, pulling him in for a kiss.

It doesn’t last long, because both of them are pulling in separate directions – Brett trying to get him to lay down and Liam trying to get Brett’s ass out of bed.

“C’mon.” Brett pleads. “One hour and then we’ll go. We might never get a view like this again.”

Liam looks out the large windows, watching the sun begin to peak over the skyline and casting large shadows across the chaotic cityscape.

“One hour.” He sighs, letting Brett pull him back down.

Brett had spun the bed around the night before so that it was facing out the windows, but Liam couldn’t really sleep like that, so he’d burrowed under the blankets and clung to Brett’s side. It’s different now though, in the daylight the windows don’t make him as nervous.

Brett hums, happily, as Liam slides under the blankets next to him.

“I wanna take a look at your arm, before we leave.” He informs him, causing Liam to look down at his stitches.

_I still can’t believe I did that._

“Alright.” His hand finds Brett’s under the covers.

“After we get to Cambridge, I’m thinking we can just rest for a few days, but after that we can scout out some of the bigger parks to see if they’re safe to use.” He pokes at Liam’s side. “We can play fetch.”

“Fuck you.” Liam grins. “M’not your dog.”

“More like a little pup.” Brett teases, kissing the top of his head. “Seriously though, if exercise helps with your, uh, I.E.D., right?” Liam nods, not looking at him.

He doesn’t really like talking about it all that much. _Especially when he’s trying to make it sound normal._

“Yeah, if getting out’s going to help then we’re doing that.” Brett’s fingers trail up Liam’s side, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “Meditation seemed to work pretty good too. That something you think you might wanna do again?”

Liam hesitates to answer. It’d been nice and he remembers the little chant Brett had taught him.  _The sun, the moon, the truth._

“I’m not gonna convert or anything.” He asserts, not affirming or rejecting Brett’s offer. “I’m not religious.”

“You don’t need to believe in anything to calm yourself.” Brett’s answer is predictably perfect and nonjudgmental. “Think of it as a tool, not a religion. Use it to control yourself, but don’t let it control you.”

“It’s way too early for me to understand what you’re saying.” Liam says, honestly, getting a chuckle out of the older boy. “Not that I ever really do, but I can fake it better after noon.”

He’s not making it up either. Brett’s on a whole other level than him and it’s a little scary sometimes, especially when he starts talking about medical shit or different philosophies – something Liam’s assuming he’d picked up from Cora. Sometimes he has to concentrate really hard and focus on Brett’s lips to actually comprehend what he’s saying, but when it becomes too much for him he just listens to the sound of Brett’s voice.  _I’ve never met someone with a voice as soothing as his._

“I’ll make sure to bring it up again over lunch.” He bumps their heads together. “Speaking of which – judging by the smell of your breath – I’m gonna take a wild guess and say you ate all of the beef jerky.”

“Growing boy.” Liam grins, burying his head into the warm crook of Brett’s neck. He kisses the side of his neck, nervously. He’s still not really sure how all of this works, but Brett hasn’t pushed him away yet, besides to tell him he’s not ready for anything more than kissing.

_Which only makes me feel more like a child._

But Brett grabs the back of his neck with one hand, keeping his head trapped where it is. His other hand slips under the hem of Liam’s shirt, coming to rest on his lower back and press him closer.

“Cold hands.” Liam mutters against his neck, shivering to prove his point.

“Not everyone can be a pocket sized space heater.” Brett laughs, but retracts the hand from under his shirt to rest on the same spot above the fabric. “I think it’s all the anger in you.”

“Oh, I’ll show you anger.” Liam grumbles, letting his head fall to the pillow beside Brett’s.

Brett laughs at him, but does stop talking, instead stroking his hand up and down Liam’s back, leisurely. Liam likes this, having someone touch him so casually and not freezing up at the contact.  _It’s different._

_It’s been what? A little over two weeks that I’ve known him and we’re already in bed. And he’s touching me. And I don’t want to kill him for touching me . . . guess the apocalypse is good for some things._

They lay there for almost the entire hour, not really talking much, just holding onto each other and getting lost in their own thoughts. Liam wonders what Brett thinks about sometimes, but he probably wouldn’t understand it even if he asked him to explain.

“Alright.” Brett tickles Liam’s side when the hours almost past. “Sit up so I can take a look at you.”

Liam mutters about making him get comfortable when he was ready to go an hour ago, but sits up anyway.

“Go ahead, doc.” He holds his arm out, watching Brett slip out of bed.  _I can definitely get used to him not wearing clothes,_ Liam thinks and watches – with some disappointment – as Brett pulls a shirt on; covering up the tattoos on his torso. The large cluster of roses and feathers on his right collarbone is Liam’s favorite.

“Technically not a doctor, dude.” Brett informs him as he rummages through the backpack.

“Probably the closest thing that’s still breathing.” Liam points out.

“How are things?” Brett asks, coming back to sit beside him on the bed. He folds one leg underneath him, but leaves the other hanging off the bed. “Out there, I mean. I’ve been meaning to ask. I’ve been here since everything began, never got to see what the rest of the country looks like.”

Liam shrugs. Brett’s rubbing a wet cloth over his stitches, trying to be gentle but the pressure feels strange; though it isn’t painful, specifically.

“We avoided anything major. Slavers, cannibals, crazy religious people mostly, but this guy who Garrett robbed told us about a settlement near Chicago that was supposedly more normal. Not military either, so no danger of being conscripted and forced to fight other humans.” Liam’s stomach feels sick every time he thinks about that.

The President had died a few weeks in, but it’d taken more than a month for that news to spread byway of the post-apocalyptic gossip trail. Rumor was that he’d been assassinated, but no one took blame and the various government officials and military commanders turned on each other, wasting their resources on people rather than zombies.  _The fighting’s probably killed as many people as the corpses by now_.

“Obviously you guys didn’t buy that.” Brett dries off his arm, before applying some of the gross gel to it and smoothing it along his ugly puckered wound.

“Garrett shot him.” He doesn’t even give himself the chance to picture the man’s demolished face. “We moved on.”

Brett doesn’t say anything to that, pretending to be too engrossed with the stitches, but Liam can see the twitch in his lip that he’s learned means that he’s angry.  _He doesn’t want to insult Garrett in front of me,_ Liam knows that already and he’s grateful for it. Not that he thinks Garrett was right, but he’d feel obligated to defend him and he doesn’t want a fight with Brett.

“There’s been like fifty second-comings of Jesus though, so that’s gotta be good, right?” That gets a smile and Liam’s heart jumps at how much it lightens Brett’s expression. “I mean it’s only a matter of time before one of those Jesus’ raptures us and we become angels right?”

“Maybe you, I’m a heathen remember?” Brett wraps some gauze around Liam’s arm, and uses a pin to hold it in place. “Buddhist badass.”

Liam pokes at the bandaged wound, testing the pain. It’s only been a few days, but it already doesn’t hurt as much; only when he rubs it wrong or accidently sleeps on it.

“Me either, then.” Brett looks at him, questioningly. “Gay.” He deadpans, earning another smile. “Also crazy and an atheist. So at least we’ll have each other.”

“Aw.” Brett smiles, teasingly. “You want to stay in the apocalypse with me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” He shuffles closer to the older boy and leans into his lap. “I’m a creature of habit.”

Brett’s fingers run through his hair and he resists the urge to sigh. He likes the feeling of someone touching his head, fingers rubbing and scratching at his scalp, but he’s also a little self-conscious about it.  _My hair’s kind of disgustingly dirty. I’ll feel so much better once I can shower._

“You know you don’t need to sleep in your jeans every night, right?” Brett ruffles his hair back and forth. “Can’t be comfortable.”

“Thought you said no.” Liam’s head lifts bit, his interest piqued at the suggestion.

“I did.” Brett chuckles when he drops his head back down in dismay. “Pants can come off without anybody getting laid. Plus, your legs are like the only part of you that has any hair – makes me feel less weird about this.”

Liam blushes at the comment, but sits up to face Brett anyway.

“You feel weird about it?”

“Yeah.” Brett says, honestly. “You’re only seventeen. You look even younger. It’s . . .”

He suppresses his anger at the observation to shake his head, resolutely. “That’s stupid. The world fucking ended, there’s no laws anymore, plus I’m pretty sure the age of consent was sixteen in most states anyway.”

“Doesn’t mean it feels right.” He immediately reaches out to grab Liam’s hand when he tries to pull away. “Didn’t mean it like that. It’s definitely right, it’s just that I’m not used to it, you know? Never actually been with a guy without the fucking part and you’re still technically a kid.”

“No such thing as technicalities anymore.” He shoves Brett’s arm, playfully. At least he tries for playful, but he’s pretty sure it was harder than intended. “And I’m cool with adding that part.” He lets a hand rest on Brett’s bare knee.

“You’re ruthless.” Brett laughs, but doesn’t move his hand off.  _Still, he didn’t agree._  So without instruction, Liam just leaves his hand where it is. “Ever since your birthday you’ve been trying to get me into bed.”

“I mean I do have you in bed- wait, what d’you mean?”

He doesn’t like the smile of Brett’s face, well he does, but it’s secretive and mocking. That’s the part he doesn’t like.

“You came at me pretty hard.” Brett reaches up to smooth back his hair. “Took a lot for me to be the adult and put your drunk ass to bed. Not that that really stopped you.”

Liam knows his cheeks and ears are turning bright red because they feel hot.

“I was drunk.” He mumbles, trying to justify whatever he’d done. “Probably your fault. You let an underage kid drink.”

“Don’t worry, you took care of it on your own.” He informs him, casually. “Never wanted to help you out with anything that much.” He kisses Liam’s lips softly. “But, I was a perfect gentleman and waited for you to finish up before holding you until you fell asleep. Just like Prince Charming.”

“You’re such a dick.” Liam’s pretty happy that he can’t remember the incident, because that’s a memory he can definitely live without.

“I’m not insulting you.” Brett tickles at his ribs. “Frisky drunks are the best drunks. Plus I like that you’re cool with me touching you.” His hand smooths across Liam’s abdomen to prove his point. “Makes me feel special.”

“You’re so gay.” Liam shoves him off, but smiles nonetheless. “Let’s go before I puke.”

It only takes them a minute to get dressed and prepared for a day on the move.

Liam packs all of his things into Brett’s bag, but hesitates when he sees the picture of him and his mom. He’d been looking at it for a while this morning, trying to bring life back into the lines of her face, but he’s beginning to lose that ability. Every day that passes he feels the memories getting further away and harder to relive.  _How long until I forget the sound of her voice? How she smelled? The way her hands were always soft when she checked me for a fever?_

“Don’t forget your candy.” Brett calls from the other side of the room, where he’s tying on his sneakers. “And ditch the boots, I got you sneakers for a reason.”

Liam quickly slips the picture back with the others, before looking down at his feet. He hasn’t worn sneakers since before all of this – Garrett said that boots made him taller and more threatening.

“I’ll be fine.” He shakes his head, but Brett gives him a look.

“Boots are for kicking in skulls, which is cool and all, but sneakers are for running, which is what we’re probably going to need to do. What’s the matter? Don’t wanna match with me?” He smirks, “How else will the biters know that we’re a couple?”

_A couple._  Liam’s been wondering what word to use to describe them, but he’s been afraid to ask.  _Not much use for labels in the apocalypse, I guess . . . still . . ._

“You really need to work on turning your brain off so that you don’t cook it.” Brett teases, obviously seeing the concentration on his face.

Liam looks at him blankly, not understanding that it’s a joke at first. When he gets it, it’s already a little too late to laugh, so he tries for a smile and sits down to yank his boots off.

“You alright?” Brett broaches with concern.

Liam kicks his boots away and pulls on the black sneakers that Brett hands him. “Yeah.” His voice is a little tight. “Just thinking.”

“Wanna tell me what about?” Brett’s tone is mild, not demanding, as he pushes Liam’s hands away and begins to tie his laces for him.

“I’m not four.” Liam huffs, indignantly.

“I like doing things for you.” Brett shrugs, pulling the knot tight and looking up at him. “That a no on telling me about it?” He moves to work on the other shoe.

“Later. Maybe.” Brett seems to accept that as enough of an answer and helps him to his feet.

“Stay close to me, okay?” Liam feels warm as two big hands come to rest on his biceps.

“I’m not a kid.” He states, but there’s no malice in his voice.

“I know.” Brett beams and leans in to kiss him. “I need you to watch my back.”

_Not a bad place to watch,_  Liam thinks, his hands resting at Brett’s hips. He tugs on his belt loops, earning an admonishing smile.

_He needs to sleep more._  Liam examines the faded shades of purple that mark his face and neck, but his eye looks better and his lip is scabbing over.  _Maybe he’ll have a cool scar on his lip._  He reaches up to brush his thumb along the curve of Brett’s cheek.

He doesn’t flinch at the contact, but Liam can see that he’s still sore.

“Maybe we shouldn’t go anywhere today.” He suggests, anxiously. “Cambridge isn’t going to vanish if we take some time to recover.”

“I’m not a kid either, Liam.” Brett grabs his hand and squeezes, before dropping it. “A few bruises aren’t going to slow me down out there. Just stick close, okay? No more running off on your own.”

“Worked out pretty well if you ask me.” Liam smiles, cheekily.

Brett gently swats the side of his head. “I’m not disagreeing, but don’t pull anything like that again.”

“Whatever you say, dad.” Liam mumbles, following as Brett turns to leave the nice room and lead them back out into the urban wasteland filled with the walking dead and psychopathic survivors.

_It’s gonna be a good day._

* * *

**Brett’s POV**

_He looks better than he has in days._

Brett’s keeping a close eye on Liam, who’s strolling along a few feet ahead of him; his posture a little too relaxed for Brett’s liking, but he doesn’t call him out on it.  _Kid deserves to relax, I just wish he’d done more of that while we were at the dorm._

_We’ll need to find him a weapon he can actually use soon,_ he thinks,  _that gun’s all but useless._  The thought of Liam fighting at his side makes Brett’s stomach a little uneasy, but there isn’t really another option.  _I can’t keep him sheltered, it’d only come back to get him killed if anything ever happened to me. He needs to be able to fend for himself._

Not that Liam’s defenseless by any means – his time being used as collateral by Garrett had made sure of that. He knows how to run, he’d be a challenge to take down in close quarters, and he has a violent streak that even scares Brett sometimes, but . . . he’s never had to take care of himself and he’s still completely unfamiliar with the area.

“Stop staring at my ass.” Liam jokes, not looking back at him.

“I’m a little too distracted by your big head to see it.”

Liam throws up his middle finger.

Brett lets his vision leave Liam for a moment so that he can scan their surroundings.  _We’re getting close._  He tries to contain his excitement, knowing that it’s always a bad idea to celebrate before you’re safe, but he can’t suppress the smile that comes to his lips.

_I’ll finally be able to shower. To sleep semi-peacefully. We won’t have to be constantly worrying about food or water._

They’ve managed to skirt the more dangerous areas of Boston – keeping a healthy distance from Fenway – but it’d set them back almost three whole hours.

“What’s this place?” Liam asks, curiously looking around at the brick apartments. “It looks like Cambridge. Lots of trees.”

“Brookline.” Brett wipes the sweat from his forehead, hoping for winter to hurry up and get its ass here – though he knows he’ll regret that once it does come.

“It’s nice.” Liam murmurs.

Brett sees movement at the corner ahead and quickly puts himself between Liam and the small cluster of biters there.

“We can outrun them and circle back.” Liam suggests, his hand reaching for the gun.

“No.” Brett unsheathes the machete and gives it a few test swings. “It’s only five. We can’t keep avoiding them if we’re going to get there today.”

He advances and Liam follows closely on his heels, until they’re about ten feet from the zombies, where Liam stands his ground to watch Brett’s back.

“Come on big guy.” Brett goads the largest of the creatures, hoping to take him out first.  _I need to be careful with this one._

He keeps an eye on the others as they fan out and approach him with staggering gaits.  _Douchey frat bro, soccer mom, guy in a trench coat, and douchey frat bro #2._

“Distract the two on my left.” Brett calls out and Liam does so without hesitation, running past the group and trying to get their attention. It works a little better than anticipated and he manages to lure them all except for the big one and Trench Coat.

He overestimates the amount of decay in Trench Coat and is surprised when it lunges forward, almost latching onto Brett’s forearm. Still, he’s able to dip back and swing upwards, cleaving the things arm clean off.

“C’mon.” He prods, turning his focus to the smallest of the pair. He glances at Liam for a brief second, just to ensure that he’s keeping his distance from the others. “Come at me one more time.”

It does and Brett takes its head off. The big one’s advancing at a slower pace, so he flanks it and swings towards its neck. The machete cuts through rotting flesh but catches on bone before it can sever the spinal cord.

His blood turns cold in the short second before the biter swings on him and knocks him to the pavement. He rolls out of the way before it’s on top of him and kicks out one of its knees, forcing it to the ground.

_Maybe Liam’s right on boots._

Brett moves hastily, gripping the hilt of the machete and tearing it free. He brings it back down with much more force than before and manages to lop its head off. Mostly anyway, it’s still connected by a bit of rotten flesh.

“Fuck.” He huffs, sweating heavier than he’d been before. Turning to clean up the other three, his heart almost stops.

One of the biters is lying on the ground, Liam’s knife sticking out of its eye, while Liam is being backed up against the outside of a brick shop by the others. What makes Brett’s world freeze is the blood covering Liam’s arm.  _No._

He’s at his side in a flash, unthinkingly slaughtering the two remaining zombies and gripping Liam’s shoulders with shaky hands. He pushes the younger boy back against the wall and reaches down for his bloody arm.

“It’s not mine.” Liam says at the same time that Brett sees there’s no red. Just black. “Chill.”

“Sorry.” Brett releases him, his breathing unsteady and ragged.  _He wasn’t bit. He’s fine._

“It’s alright.” Liam assures, wiping the ichor off on his jeans. “That was close.”

“Why didn’t you call for me?” His eyes are darting up and down Liam’s body, trying to make absolutely certain that he’s in one piece.

“Didn’t want to distract you.” Liam shrugs. “I have the gun if I needed it.”

“Why didn’t you?” Brett looks over his shoulder at the frat boy in the street with Liam’s knife jutting out from its eye. “You had to get close for that.”

“I’ve been closer.” Liam points out, but he looks as shaken as Brett feels. “Can we just go?”

“Yeah.” Brett nods, ready to leave, but stops Liam with a hand on his waist. “One sec.” He brings their lips together in a desperate kiss. Liam jerks in surprise, but his hands find their way to Brett’s lower back. Brett doesn’t break the kiss until he’s certain he’ll be able to remember the heavy taste of Liam in his mouth.

“Should I get us into more close calls?” Liam asks, lifting his eyebrows at Brett’s abruptness.

“Not unless you want me to bite your tongue off next time.” Brett breathes, grabbing Liam’s neck for a moment, grateful to feel his solid warmth.

He’s just turned around when he sees another zombie in the street.  _Fucking hell._ He feels anger wash over him and tightens his grip on the machete, preparing himself to rush it and hack its head off before it can get anywhere near Liam.

That’s all in the brief second before he really examines it.

It’s just standing in the center of the street – looking at them – but that’s not what shocks him.  _It’s got three arms,_  he notices the deformed limb dangling from its back.

“What the-”

He’s cut off as the creature charges at him with startling speed; something that should be impossible for a biter.

“Back!” He shouts at Liam, stumbling away from the biter as it closes the gap.

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._

He strikes out with the machete and manages to take its head off as it barrels into him like a brick wall. He’s slammed up against the wall of the house and loses his grip on the machete, but at least he’d been able to decapitate it.

_What the fuck?_

The third arm snakes out and latches onto his throat, squeezing with an iron grip. At the same time another arm pins one of his hands and its body twists to the side at an unnatural angle and that’s when he sees it.  _This thing’s got a second fucking face._

It looks deformed and almost melted into the bare side of the warped creature. Yet there’s no denying that that’s a face. With a mouth full of rotten teeth to boot.

_What the actual fuck?_

A gunshot rings out a millisecond before the thing is knocked off of Brett by the force of the bullet. It looks like Liam has blown its shoulder off, probably unsure of where to actually fire, but it gives Brett an opening. His hand finds the machete and in one swift movement he’s propelled to his feet and slashes down at the second face, splitting it open.

It spasms violently, but stutters to a halt. Brett holds his breath for a few endless seconds, making certain that it’s actually dead, before turning to check on Liam.

“What the fuck is that?” Liam’s pale, his blue eyes glued to the monstrosity on the ground.

“Don’t know.” Brett glances back at it. “We need to go. Every biter in earshot is headed here right now. If any more are like that, then we’re fucked.”

“Are you bit?” The younger boy looks petrified.

“What?” He does a quick check, despite knowing it hadn’t bitten him. “No. You saved me.”

Liam looks like he wants to embrace him, but they both know that there’s no time for that.

“C’mon.” His hand finds Liam’s and he tugs him along, quickly picking up their pace.

* * *

_What the fuck was that thing?_

Brett’s been wondering that for almost an hour now, as they slowly make their progress across the city.

The pair are back in Allston, moving with more caution than they’d ever done before. Biters had flooded into the area at the sound of the gunshot, but they’d managed to slip by unnoticed. Brett didn’t see any other deformed ones in the converging herds, but he hasn’t dropped his guard.  _Didn’t see that one either until it was thirty feet away and almost killed me._

“We need to keep moving.” He says, brusquely.

Liam doesn’t answer him so he turns to see the younger boy kneeling on the sidewalk, resting his head on his knee. His skin looks clammy and pale and his hands are shaking.

“We need to go.” He repeats, a little softer this time.  _Get up, Liam. We just need to keep moving for one more hour, two tops._

“I know.” Liam growls, angrily. “I’m trying.”

Brett keeps an eye on their surroundings as he stoops down next to Liam. He reaches out for his shoulder, but Liam shifts away from him, leaving his hand hanging in the air.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, while trying to determine that for himself.

Liam doesn’t answer, but his face twists up in a mix of frustration and pain. “Dizzy.” He mumbles, after a moment as he seems to relax a bit.

_Panic attack? No he’s speaking too calmly._ Brett looks up and down Liam’s small, shaking body.

“How’s your stomach feel?” He asks.

“Fucking kills.” Liam snaps.

_Heat exhaustion._

“Can I?” Brett leans in, trying to get Liam to lean back a bit so he can press a hand to his chest. His shirt’s damp and heavy with sweat, but it’s his heartbeat that concerns Brett.  _That’s too fast._  “Have you been drinking water?” Brett curses himself for not making sure earlier.  _It’s almost 100 °F out, I would have thought he’d be smart enough to drink some fucking water._

“Haven’t today.” Liam shrugs. “Didn’t want to waste it. Just in case.”

“Liam, you need to drink. Here.” He pulls a bottle from the backpack and presses it to Liam’s lips.

He immediately starts gulping the liquid down and Brett watches the way his Adam’s apple bobs with a little too much interest.  _Probably wouldn’t be appropriate to lick his neck right now,_  he reminds himself.

“We’re not going to make Cambridge today.” He disregards the look on Liam’s face. “You need to get indoors soon. You’ve got heat exhaustion.” Brett wipes away the sweat on the back of his own neck.  _I should’ve been paying more attention to him._

He’s grown used to New England summers in the past three years, – well as much as you can anyway – but the humidity and heat combine to turn the place into a sticky, sweltering mess.  _Liam’s not used to this, I should’ve made sure he was drinking water._

“I can make it.” Liam argues, but doesn’t move off his knees.

“No.” Brett presses a hand to his forehead;  _he’s not hot enough to worry about yet, but that could change fast if we don’t get him indoors and drinking more water._ “One night in Allston. We’ll go back to the house, set up for the night, and leave early in the morning if you’re up to it.” He runs his fingers through Liam’s sweaty hair, liking the way Liam seems to calm under his touch.

“We’re supposed to get there today.” Liam’s protest is weak.

“Not anymore.” Brett smooths a hand down Liam’s back, trying to comfort him. “C’mon, up.” He wraps an arm around Liam’s waist and helps him to his feet. “Keep your arm around my shoulders, it’s not too much further.”

Liam grumbles about being treated like a child, but allows Brett to shoulder the brunt of his weight anyway.

“You doing alright?” Brett asks him a few minutes later, breathing a little bit heavier as he tries to keep Liam upright.

“It’s my fault.”

“No.” Brett’s muscles are aching and holding Liam up isn’t doing much to soothe them. “Just remember to drink water next time.”

“I think I’m gonna throw up.” Liam warns him a moment before he doubles over and vomits on the concrete in front of them.

_I need to get him inside, quickly._  Brett kneels to his side, running a comforting hand up and down his back, trying to help him through it. It’s over shortly, but Liam spends a minute dry heaving with nothing coming up.  _There’s not much in his stomach to throw up in the first place._

“Here.” He opens another bottle of water and gives it to Liam.

The younger boy sits back and gargles some water and spits it out, before draining the bottle empty.

“I’m dying.” He whines, eyes clamped shut against the brightness of the sun.

“You’re dehydrated and exhausted.” Brett responds, clinically. “We’re almost at the house.”

He’s able to get Liam back on his feet and walking, but Brett picks up the pace a bit – all but carrying Liam completely.  _He needs to get out of the sun._

“Almost there.” He says, ignoring the way Liam’s dragging his feet.

They’re about to round the corner where the safe house sits when Brett hears a voice and halts.

“Down.” He pushes Liam over onto the grass as gently as he can, while he lunges forward to the corner and peers around the side of a house.

There’s two men standing a few yards down the street, talking louder than he ever would.  _They’re stupid,_  he thinks, but then takes in their appearances. One’s tall – at least a few inches taller than himself – and built like a fucking linebacker. The others scrawny and greasy looking, but there’s a look about him that makes Brett nervous. _Not stupid; confident._

“Well where the fuck did it go!” The little one shouts, waving his arms in the air.  _Definitely on something. Does meth still exist?_

“Does it look like I know?”

“The boss is gonna have our hides if we don’t find it! Aw man, I never signed up for this.” He’s scratching at his head furiously.

“You did.” The other states, simply. “We should keep moving.”

“It killed Liz.” Brett watches the greasy one pace back and forth, facial expression changing with each step. “Ripped her throat right out. We need to put it down.”

“Boss wants it back alive.” The taller man warns.

“How?!” The shout echoes loudly, but they’re beginning to move away from the boys.

Brett can’t hear the response, so he turns back to Liam.

“You alright?” He helps him up off the ground, dusting the dirt off of his back.

“Fine. Who are those guys?”

“Don’t know, but they don’t look friendly.” Brett glances back around the corner, watching them casually trail down the street. He isn’t about to try and get close to see if they’ve got scars on their necks, but he thinks it’s safe to assume they’re probably from Fenway.

_And they’re blocking our way._  He looks back at Liam and knows that they can’t wait until they’re out of the area to get indoors.

“This way.” Brett helps Liam get his arm around his shoulder again, before retracing their steps a few blocks.

“Where are we going?” Liam asks, face wincing at the pace Brett’s moving them.

“I’ll let you know when I figure it out.” Brett scans the houses as they pass, searching for anything suitable.  _Just one night. We can make one night outside of a safe house._  “Figured it out.” He answers, before Liam can ask another question.

It’s a small house, but it meets Brett’s basic list of requirements better than any of its neighbors.  _Not many windows and none are broken, dark curtains to hide us and keep out the sun, and with plenty of space to escape on all sides if we need to._

He hopes the painted wooden shingles aren’t hiding anything that will kill them as he checks the knob.  _It’s open. Please no more biters._

Brett pushes it open – keeping his body in front of Liam’s – but there’s nothing inside.

“Stay here.” He helps Liam down onto the couch in the living room, before searching the other rooms – which only takes a solid minute considering the place has one bedroom, a bathroom, and a kitchen.

“You’re not dead, so I guess we’re alone?” Liam asks, trying to smile, but he looks worse than before.

“Come lay on the bed.” Brett helps him up and gets him into the bedroom. “Stay here for a sec.” He instructs as he starts to shut all of the curtains, sealing out the majority of the light.

Liam’s still clammy and pale, but when Brett wipes his sweat away it doesn’t reappear as quickly.  _That could either be great or horrible news._

“How do you feel?” He asks, giving Liam another bottle of water.

“Shit.” Is all the younger boy says, drinking deeply from the bottle.

“Yeah, I can kind of see that.” Brett chuckles at the look of insecurity that comes over Liam’s face. “Don’t worry, you’re still cute even after you almost puked all over me.”

“At least I warned you.” Liam mumbles.

“I’ll give you that.” Brett raises his eyebrows. “So I’m gonna need you to do a few things for me, okay? Nothing too weird, but I’m kind of obligated to be your physician at this point.”

“Oh god, what?” Liam asks, miserably.

“First you need to get naked.” He winks at the speechless teen. “You can keep your boxers on, but what I know about treating heat exhaustion basically comes down to ‘no clothes, no sun, plenty of water’.”

Liam nods, struggling out of his shirt and tossing it at Brett’s head. The older boy easily dodges it, but can’t help laughing at Liam.  _He’s ridiculously cute._

“Keep throwing things at me and I’ll let you suffer.”

“Please.” Liam implores, mockingly, as he kicks away his sneakers and slides his jeans off.

_He’s still really pale._

“What now, doc?”

Brett grabs his backpack and takes out the washcloth he’d grabbed from the safe house as a last minute thought.  _The universe might not be completely against us._  He takes a moment to douse the cloth with water, trying to soak it as best he can.

“That’s cold.” Liam grumbles as Brett places the cloth across his forehead, but closes his eyes against the sensation anyway.

“Good.” Brett yawns, feeling tired already.  _We’ve only been up for half the day and I’m already about to knock out on my ass._  “One more thing. Let me know when you need to take a piss.”

“Why?” Liam’s eyes open only to narrow at Brett.

He holds up a finger, “First: to watch your back, you don’t even know where we are and those guys looked like trouble.” He lifts a second finger, “Second: you gotta tell me the color.”

“You lost me.”

“You’re out of the sun, but I need to make sure the water’s helping you with dehydration. ‘Clear to yellow and you can mellow, orange to brown and you’re going down.’”

Liam stares at him blankly for a few seconds.

“Please never say that again.”

“You asked.” Brett shrugs, pulling off his own sneakers and climbing into bed next to Liam.

“You’re not going to sit there and watch me.” Liam says, but lets his eyes shut again.

“Can do other things.” Brett smiles and presses a kiss to Liam’s lips. “Just keep your clammy hands off me, yeah?”

“Get fucked.” Liam laughs.

Brett brings a hand up to the cloth and squeezes out a little water, shaking the droplets out onto Liam’s chest.

“Cold.” Liam mumbles, not opening his eyes.

“Nice?”

“Yeah.”

Brett places his wet hand on Liam’s chest and begins to rub small circles, trying to soothe him and cool him down at the same time. He tries not to chuckle at the way Liam’s lips slightly curl and his leg twitches at having his stomach rubbed.  _I’ve always wanted a dog._

“We’re gonna be in Cambridge tomorrow.” He informs Liam. “Just a few more hours.”

“Unless I fuck it up again.” Liam sighs, back slightly arching upwards into Brett’s touch.

“Just makes sure you drink water. Hopefully it won’t be so hot out tomorrow.”

Liam’s silent for a few minutes and Brett begins to wonder if he’s fallen asleep.  _No, he’s not snoring, so no way he’s sleeping._

“What was that thing?” He asks, catching Brett off-guard.

He’s been trying not to think about that.  _It looked like a mutated zombie._

“It was fast.” Liam continues.

“Strong too.” Brett remembers the feeling of its hand around his throat.  _Biters just bite, they don’t try to choke their prey. That means the thing must have had some sort of intelligence too._  He doesn’t say that part.

“Think there’s more of ‘em.” Liam keeps his tone even, but Brett knows he’s terrified.  _Fuck, so am I._

“Probably.” He answers honestly. “It’s probably some type of radiation or something. Don’t get worked up over it, but we need to be more careful when we go out from now on.”

“I used that thing again.”

Brett looks at him, curiously.

“The sun, the moon, the truth.” Liam says the words with a type of security that makes Brett’s heart leap. “When that thing was choking you, I froze up. I thought you were going to die . . . but then I remembered how you calmed me down.”

“That’s good.” Brett nods, leaning in to kiss Liam again - this time a little deeper, his tongue sliding against Liam’s. “I’m glad you’re taking to it so well. It was Satomi’s favorite mantra.”

“Is.”

“What?”

“You said was, but you told me not to do that – talk about people like they’re dead. So is. It is her favorite mantra.”

Brett grins, widely. “You trying to switch roles on me here?” He pinches Liam’s side, playfully. “I can start being a brooding teenager if you’re up to dealing with that.”

Liam smiles, but doesn’t open his eyes. “Can I sleep now?”

“Of course.” Brett says.

“Can you-?” Liam doesn’t elaborate, but Brett understands his meaning.

He ditches his shirt, before sliding up next to Liam and letting an arm snake across his stomach. He rests his head against Liam’s shoulder, planting a few kisses to his damp skin, before settling down.

Liam’s clammy and pale, but it doesn’t bother Brett much, he just wants him to get back to full strength as soon as possible.

Liam lifts his arm up, urging Brett to come closer and rest his head against his collar. He does, trying to keep his mind out of the gutter as Liam’s hand trails down his spine.

“You feel really good.” Liam mumbles. “Cool.”

“Sometimes being cold-blooded comes in handy, I guess.” Brett teases, continuing to rub circles across Liam’s belly. “Not gonna complain about my cold hands tonight?”

“Maybe in the morning.” Liam’s fingers trace the curving lines of his Gemini tattoo, vaguely.

Brett listens as Liam’s breathing slows to a steady rhythm, letting his own sync up with it. He keeps his eyes open until he hears Liam beginning to snore, only letting them shut and his body relax when he’s certain the kid won’t need him for anything.

_Cambridge. Tomorrow._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick shoutout to Melina_Vanilla, I haven't heard from you for a while or seen your reviews on any other stories, so I hope you're alright! Maybe finally getting all that homework you always tell us about done haha.
> 
> Hope everyone likes this chapter! I have to fight hard to keep an actual plot going and not just have them happy and cuddling all day, and it's only getting harder with each chapter honestly. Though some pretty big things are about to come their way, just a heads up!!


	11. Someone Could Be Falling In Love With Your Smile

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's dedicated to one of my favorite people here on AO3, Melina_Vanilla for their birthday! Sorry it's a few hours late, but I wanted to get it perfect :) Thank you so much for your support throughout this entire story and all the times you've made me smile <3 I hope you love it and had an awesome birthday!!

**Liam’s POV**

Liam’s first thought upon waking up is that he’s hungry. Really hungry actually – probably because he’d thrown up what little food he had in his stomach yesterday.

“You look better.” Brett mumbles, still curled around Liam’s side and tucked under his arm.

“Feel better.” Liam sighs, wanting to shut his eyes and go back to sleep, but his stomach’s not complying, rumbling loudly. “Starving though.”

“That’s a good sign.” Brett smirks, planting a kiss on his chest. “You’re getting back to normal.”

Liam mutters under his breath and pushes Brett off of him. “Fine I’ll get it myself.” He stumbles out of bed, towards the backpack in the corner.

He does feel better. He’d been completely exhausted the day before, torn between wanting to puke and pass out. He wouldn’t recommend it. Brett had woken him up a few times throughout the night to make him drink more water and it must’ve worked, because he’s no longer considering death as a valid career move.

“Not a bad view.” Brett’s smiling like an idiot when Liam turns back around, pack of crackers in hand.

Suddenly he’s very aware that he’s only in his boxers and standing in the middle of the room, looking like a complete moron.

Brett’s cheerful mood dims a bit as he examines Liam, only making the younger boy more uncomfortable.

“We should find some real food soon, you’re kind of thin.” He stands and comes to Liam’s side, grabbing at his bare waist. “Still cute as hell though.”

“I’m not cute, you jack ass.” He mumbles, tearing open the crackers and ignoring the way Brett’s rubbing small circles against his ribs.  _Trying to ignore it, anyway_.

“I gotta disagree with you there.” Brett watches as he shoves a handful of crackers into his mouth, making of point of getting crumbs all over the floor. “Alright, maybe cute isn’t the right word.”

“That’s what I thought.” Liam mumbles through a mouthful.

Brett shakes his head at him, but he’s got that relaxed smile on his face that instinctively makes Liam feel at ease.  _I never know what’s going through his head. Probably wouldn’t understand it even if I did, but still . . . damn, that smile – any smile, really – always looks good on him._

Brett bends his head down for a kiss, so Liam swallows hurriedly. He pulls Liam closer until their bare chests are touching and Liam starts to panic. He’s never been this intimate with another person in his entire life – not Garrett, Mason, Scott, or Hayden, and he’d known all of them a hell of a lot longer than Brett.  _This is weird._

“You alright?” Brett pulls back, looking at him openly. “You’re worried about something.”

“Sorry.” Liam wipes at his lips, still holding onto the pack of crackers and not knowing what to do with it. “Just not used to . . .” He waves his free hand around in the general direction towards the taller boy.

“Me either.” Brett reaches out for both his hands, making him drop the crackers to the ground. “I already told you I’ve never done this before . . . but I’m happy. I like you, Liam.”

“Me too.” Liam mumbles, trying to look Brett in the eye. He bites at his lips, picking off the dry skin. “Sorry, I’m a pain in the ass.” He says, not able to voice what he actually feels.  _Sorry, I still half-think you’re lying to me and that’s the real reason you’ll only kiss me._

_He lied to you before and you completely fell for it . . ._

Brett chuckles and presses a kiss to his forehead, startling him out of his thoughts. “It’s alright, you keep me warm at night.”

“We’re going today, right?” Liam pictures a shower and has to try hard not to show how eager he is. “We’ll finally get there?”

“Depends.” Brett shrugs, “You gonna stay hydrated?”

He has to fight the urge to get defensive. He hates feeling like a burden and that’s exactly what he’d been yesterday. It’s his fault they’re still not in Cambridge, but he’s not going to let it happen again.

“If it means I can finally shower I’ll drink out of a toilet.” He blurts, before turning red _. You really know how to fuck up a mood, Dunbar. Time to practice thinking before speaking._

“Don’t think you’ll have to go that far.” Brett doesn’t seem fazed by his comment. “Though that’s good to know in case we’re ever desperate.” He’s gone before Liam can try to regain some dignity, which is probably a good thing considering his track record with actually fixing the dumb shit he says.

Brett’s rifling through the backpack and a moment later he tosses Liam a clean-ish shirt.

“Thanks.” Liam pulls it on, covering his bare torso.

He takes a few seconds to look at Brett’s tattoos; while the older boy stretches out his muscles, before he also covers up with a new shirt. Brett steps into his jeans and glances over his shoulder at Liam.

“Let me change the bandage again.”

Liam gives a nod and finishes getting dressed, before taking a seat on the bed, while Brett grabs his doctor things.

“It looks gross.” He comments, watching as Brett peels back the bandage and tosses it away.

“It does.” Brett nods, examining the angry red wound on Liam’s arm. He presses a gentle thumb to it. “It’s not warm though. Does it hurt?”

Liam shakes his head, “Just feels weird.”  _Stop worrying, he wouldn’t be doing this right now if he didn’t care about you. There’s been a million opportunities for him to ditch your sorry ass._

“That’s good, it means the ointments working and you don’t have an infection.” Brett breathes, completely unaware of Liam’s internal argument. “You can’t keep beating up on yourself.” Liam looks at him in surprise. Brett smiles, reservedly, “I can almost smell your brain burning. Want to talk about it?”

“Not really.” Liam mumbles, focusing his attention on the way Brett’s begun to clean his stitched arm with a wet cloth.

“Alright.” Brett nods, never stopping his ministrations. “Try to relax though, you don’t need to deal with anything alone, so if you’re ever up for talking . . .”

“Thanks.” Liam glances up at him, briefly.  _Fuck. He’s gotta be some type of mutant, right? Regular humans aren’t this perfect._  He quickly looks away from those placid blue eyes.

“We should eat before we go.” Brett says after he’s reapplied the ointment and wrapped a fresh bandage around Liam’s arm. “Something a little bit more filling than crackers, yeah?”

Liam nods, watching Brett snatch up the backpack, before returning to the bed. He drops it at their feet and pulls out two cans of beans, opening them both up and handing one to Liam.

_Cold beans again . . . damn, I can’t wait for Cambridge._  He’s not exactly sure what type of food they’ll have there, but Brett said it was stocked with “plenty of things” and his mind has been constantly turning that phrase over and wondering what it could mean.  _Probably not steak. But he didn’t specifically say “not steak” either . . ._

Despite his apathy he still scarfs them down in a few minutes, ignoring the look Brett keeps throwing his way.

When he’s finished he lays back on the bed and stretches his arms over his head, letting his eyes fall shut as he burps loudly.

He tenses when Brett’s hand finds its way under his shirt to rub at his belly, but relaxes after a second.  _It’s just Brett._

He likes the way the older boy’s hand rubs back and forth across his stomach, calmly. Though it’s starting to make him tired again and if he keeps it up, he’s definitely going to go back to sleep.  _Have fun waking me up._

“You really are like a puppy.” He can hear the stupid smile in Brett’s voice. “Like an angry puppy.”

“I’ll show you angry.” Liam spits, but doesn’t move an inch.

“I’m shaking.” Brett teases and a second later Liam’s feels his shirt slide up more and Brett’s lips on his stomach. His eyes open in surprise.

_So maybe he’s not just messing with me . . ._

His dick immediately jumps to attention as Brett places a series of kisses and a few gentle bites to the skin just beneath his bellybutton.

“You’ve got about ten seconds to stop, before I won’t let you.” He jokes and is a little disappointed when the older boy sits back.

“Sorry.” He grins, wiping at his mouth.

“That was . . .”

“Yeah?” Brett looks slightly proud. “Your stomach?”

Liam feels the blush before it’s even possibly visible on his face. “Yeah, I guess . . .”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Brett’s openly smiling now, like Liam just gave him a Nobel Peace Prize or something. “Sit up.” He pulls the younger boy up and presses a kiss to his lips. “You’ve got fuzz.” Brett brushes at the wispy hairs underneath Liam’s chin and along his cheeks. “Didn’t notice it before.”

Liam tries to shy away from his touch, knowing that his facial hair is negligent and definitely not something that’s pleasing to look at.

“You’ve never shaved before, right?” Brett asks, getting a short nod in return. “I can teach you if you want? When we get to Cambridge anyway and I can find some actual shaving cream. I’ve been making do with water and trust me, you’re better off with this for now.” He tugs at the light hairs.

“Fuck you.” Liam bumps his head against Brett’s. The older boy’s cheeks are rougher than they’d been when they were at Allston and Liam realizes he hasn’t shaved in a few days. He’s never really thought about it before, but Brett’s face usually looks soft and smooth.

“Ready to get going?” Brett asks, after a moment of quiet.

_Not really,_  but Liam allows himself to be pulled to his feet. He slips his shoes on and this time he doesn’t object when Brett begins to tie them for him.  _I’m not a kid, but if it makes him happy._

Leaving the area proves not to be much of an issue. No mutant zombies, no mysterious men, and it’s not even that hot out actually. Still, his biggest problem comes from Brett constantly nagging him to drink water.  _Which is really starting to piss me off._

“I’m fine.” He glares at the older boy when he offers him a bottle for the thousandth time. “I’m going to explode if I keep drinking.”

Brett eyes him warily, but concedes with a nod. “We can stop by that tree.” He points to a tree by the river and laughs at what’s probably clear strain on Liam’s face.

_I’ve only been holding it for two hours._

He sighs when he’s finally able to relieve himself on the tree; trying to pretend like Brett’s not standing three feet away. It’s not that he’s got a shy bladder really, but he’s got a shy everything around Brett.

When he turns back around the older boy isn’t looking at him, instead he’s walked a few yards off to the side of the river. He’s leaning up against the rail and looking down into the slow moving water.

“What color?” Brett asks as Liam comes to stand beside him.

“Normal, I guess.” Liam mutters, scratching the side of his head and trying not to think about what a weird question that is.  _Sick bastard’s probably not even a doctor,_  he chuckles to himself.

“Good. Let’s keep going, we’re almost there.” Brett takes his hand as they walk this time, seemingly a little bit more relaxed than before.

Liam’s not though. That thing that’d grabbed Brett the other day had haunted his dreams all night and he’s been on edge since leaving the house. Rarely has a minute gone by where he hasn’t checked over his shoulder or jumped at a shadow, but Brett hasn’t seemed to notice.

Liam glances at him and feels a little anxious at the calm look on his face as he takes in the expanse of the Charles River, but then he remembers . . .  _he always looks like that_. It’s the brief flicker of the taller boy’s eyes towards the opposite shore that eases Liam’s nerves a bit.

_He’s not relaxed he’s just composed. I should take notes._

They walk on in silence, progressing through the formerly upscale neighborhoods of Cambridge. Liam drags his feet along the cobblestone sidewalks and rips a leaf off a nearby tree.  _Bet all these rich pricks left the planet on some type of spaceship before things got bad,_  he thinks; then immediately feels guilty for it.

There are still bodies lying in the streets, decaying faces in the same expressions of pure agony that they held as the disease ate away at them – turning some, but simply killing the rest.  _There were families here. Kids . . ._  He shakes off the thought and tries not to look at any more bodies that they pass.

“Just keep that shower in mind.” Brett hums, squeezing Liam’s shoulder supportively.

“Trying.”

He doesn’t have to try for much longer – or so Brett tells him. He can almost feel Brett’s excitement as they get closer and he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t affecting him too.  _Don’t get cocky, you’re not out of the woods yet. Anything could happen._

“There.” Brett points to a massive stone and brick building that sits on a corner a few blocks down, partially hidden by the green foliage, but still dominating the – already huge – colonial houses surrounding it. “Nice, huh?”

“That’s not a loft.” Liam says, slowly. “It looks like an apartment building.”

“Used to be a dorm.” Brett seems pleased with his reaction. “The top two floors were converted into a loft. Just wait until you see the inside.”

As they grow closer, Liam’s awe magnifies.  _It’s enormous._ High arched windows are mounted resolutely in the grey stone of the first floor and Liam doesn’t know much about architecture, but he does know that this building is amazing.

He counts five stories of windows, plus large basement windows peaking above the bushes and guarded by fancy wrought iron spikes. He can’t even imagine living inside a place like this and he’s starting to half-hope the inside’s rundown enough to make him feel a little more at home.

“Brett.” He freezes, noticing something moving up against a tree, just across the street from the building. Taking a few steps towards it, he can see through the shadows.  _That’s a fucking zombie._

His panic fades when he notices that it’s pinned to the bark by something . . . an arrow?

“Liam!”

Before he can react he’s slammed down onto the ground, with barely enough time to throw his arms up and shield his head against the asphalt.

Without a pause, he’s being dragged through the street – towards the zombie.

His immediate thought is that someone’s trying to feed him to the thing and he lashes out roughly, trying break free. He’s confused when he hears Brett yelp in pain and realizes that it’s him.  _Why is he running towards the zombie?_

The older boy’s still gripping him roughly and dragging him along, but now Liam starts to respond and follow his lead. Instead of feeding him to the corpse, Brett ducks around the other side of the tree and slams Liam up against it.

“What the fuck’s going on?” He demands, breathing heavily and searching Brett’s tense face for an explanation.

“Shh.” Brett presses a finger to his lips and gestures to an arrow lodged in the mulch a few feet away. Liam looks at it for a second – trying to ignore how angry it makes him that these rich ass people had mulch patches separating their cobblestone sidewalks from their newly paved streets.

“Someone shot that.” He pieces it together. Brett had pushed him out of the way of an arrow? He notices that the older boy is standing close to him, trying to use the tree as a shield for the both of them. He can hear the zombie groaning lamely on the other side and tries not to focus on the fact that there’s only about a foot of tree between the two of them and that thing.

“Come on out.” A woman’s voice calls. “You’ve got five seconds and we’ll only take whatever you’ve got. Any more than that and we’ll have to kill you.”

“Fuck me.” Brett’s breath is hot on Liam’s neck.

_Maybe you should’ve offered a few hours ago, buddy._

“What do we do?” He asks, trying to keep calm, but the indecision in Brett’s eyes isn’t helping with that.

Brett bites at his lips.

“Five.” The woman calls out, apparently starting her countdown.

“She said we.” Liam says. “She’s got more people.”

“Four.”

“We don’t know that for certain.” Brett retorts, “She could just be trying to lure us out in the open.”

“Three.”

“Give me the gun.” Brett snatches it from his waist, before Liam can hand it over.

“Two.”

“Alright!” He calls. “We’re coming out!” Then to Liam, “I’m going to hold her up for a minute. Run that way, get back to Allston.”

“Yeah right.” Liam’s terrified, but he’s sure as hell not leaving Brett’s side while some crazy woman is trying to hunt people like animals.  _Honestly, fucking arrows?_

“Liam.”

“Brett.”

“You said?” The woman pipes up again and Brett looks defeated.

“Stay right here. If I . . .” He doesn’t finish and Liam doesn’t need him too.  _He doesn’t want me to see him kill someone. Can he even do it? I won’t watch him get killed because he can’t pull the trigger._

But Brett’s body moves before Liam has a chance to stop him and he’s standing beside the tree, pistol aimed upwards.  _She’s in one of the windows?_

“Brett?”

Liam can barely hear the gasp, but his body freezes.  _She knows him?_

“Allison?”

_And he knows her. Awesome. Maybe we aren’t dying._ Liam’s eyes are glued to Brett, watching how his posture transforms from alert to stunned.

He peeks out from around the corner. The woman – Allison – isn’t in a window, but instead crouched on the second floor balcony; overlooking the street. She immediately trains the bow on him, but Brett steps in the way, just as quickly.

“He’s with me.” He states firmly.

Liam can see her hesitate, but she lowers the bow. “I can’t believe you’re alive.”  _She doesn’t sound like she’s overjoyed, but she hasn’t killed us so that’s gotta be a good thing, right?_

“Same.” He coughs, seemingly unsure of what to do.

She looks uncertain and Liam thinks she’s going to try and kill them anyway, before she stands and puts another arrow expertly through the corpse pinned to the tree beside them. She begins to retreat into the building. “Wait there.” She calls and the tension dissipates. “The others are going to freak out.”

“Others?” Brett asks, his voice betraying his obvious hope, but Allison doesn’t stop to answer.

“Who is she?” Liam asks, tentatively.  _Brett has friends that are still alive . . . he’s got people that aren’t me._  He knows it’s selfish for him to not be happy about that, but he’s been dreading a moment like this and he hadn’t ever thought it’d actually come.

“A friend from school . . .” Brett answers, slowly, holstering the gun back at Liam’s waist. He wants to argue that it’s too soon to let his guard down, but Brett doesn’t give him the opportunity. “I can’t believe she’s alive.”

“She was with your group?”

“Yeah.” He nods, losing that hazy look in his eyes and meeting Liam’s own. He smiles down at Liam and the younger boy can see actual happiness on his face. “She was at the chapel when it got attacked . . . I just, I don’t know . . .”

“It could be a trap.” Liam warns, fingers itching to pull the gun free again, but Brett shakes his head.

“She wouldn’t. Not Allison.” Liam feels an unwarranted spike of jealousy. “Cora pretty much took charge of us, but Allison was always backing her up. She’s a friend.”

“Brett!” A new voice calls and both boys turn to look as a pretty girl with familiar red hair bounds across the street and throws her arms around Brett’s neck, nearly toppling him over.

_That can’t be . . ._

A second later a man with curly blond hair is joining in on their hug, wrapping an arm around Brett’s shoulders.

“How the fuck are ya still alive?” He asks with a distinct accent, – Irish? Scottish? Something like that – and a bright smile plastered on his face.

“Could ask you the same thing.” Brett gives in to their embrace and squeezes them back, but Liam notices Allison standing a few feet away; just watching the interaction.

“It doesn’t matter.” The red head leans back, her hands roaming Brett’s face for injuries and  _yep, that’s definitely Lydia Martin. How the fuck. . ?_

Brett smiles at her touch and Liam’s stomach sinks a bit, but right now he’s more concerned with Lydia being _Lydia_ , rather than a pretty girl.

“Well who’s this?” The blond man eyes Liam over Brett’s shoulder. “You stop by the daycare on your way here?”

Liam’s skin prickles in anger and he bares his teeth at the guy, his fists clenching tight.

“Maybe don’t make those jokes.” Brett cautions, but he’s smiling at Liam.

“Oh my god . . .” Lydia ducks out of Brett’s arms. “Liam?” Before he can say anything she’s right in front of him, arms circled around his neck in the same way she’d done to Brett.

He bristles at the contact, but doesn’t shove her off like his instincts are screaming at him to do. No one’s ever been this excited to see him alive – outside of when Scott found him at home – and he doesn’t want to offend her, oddly enough. Not to mention, it’s Lydia. Literally the last person he’d ever expect to see again . . . alive . . . and in Boston?

Brett’s got a nervous look on his face at Liam’s obvious discomfort, but he manages to awkwardly hug her back.

“How?” She asks, leaning back with wide eyes. “How are you here? Is Scott . . ?” She lets the question hang in the air and Liam feels a weird compulsion not to dash her hopes. “And Stiles?”

“No.” He forces the word out, not acknowledging her disappointment. “Came out here with my friends. Long story.” He looks at Brett, who still looks on edge.  _Why? Wait . . ._

“Why didn’t you tell me you knew Lydia?” He asks, remembering that Brett had seen the picture of his friends and that he’d told him about the lake house incident.  _He lied about Peter. Didn’t tell you about Cora. Now Lydia._

Brett looks sheepish and apologetic as he tilts his head to the side and clears his throat. “I uh, I didn’t want to upset you more. I didn’t think she was alive.” His eyes glance over Lydia’s body, clearly not used to her being, in fact, alive.

“Would the three of you like to fill us two in on what’s going on?” The blond guy asks, looking completely lost, but there’s a strange expression on Allison’s face.  _That’s a look that I know. She’s trying to hold something in._

“Shit, right.” Brett looks at Liam, eyes begging him not to be angry about his omission, and honestly Liam doesn’t think his irritation will last. It’s hard to stay angry at Brett. “Liam. This is Isaac and Allison.” He gestures to the blond guy and dark haired woman – still holding her bow in hand and with a guarded tint to her eyes. “You know Lydia. We all went to BU together.”

“How does the little one fit into all of this?” Isaac asks, oblivious to Liam’s glare.

Brett smiles, but doesn’t pile on. “Ran into him a few weeks ago, I saved his life, he saved my life. Like he said, it’s a really long story. He’s from their hometown in California.” Brett looks at Lydia, like he can’t believe she’s real. “He and Lydia sort of ran in the same circles.”

_That’s an exaggeration. I had no circles, got sort of caught up in one of hers and then ditched her friends to chase after my best friend on his quest to find a psychopath . . . maybe it’s not that long of a story after all. The part about meeting Brett and him turning out to be interested in me is a whole other deal though. That I could fill up a fucking novel with._

“You’re from Beacon Hills?” Allison cuts in, forgoing the air of caution and looking at Liam with renewed interest. “Scott . . . is he? Do you know?”

“She’s from Beacon Hills too.” Lydia echoes what Liam’s already pieced together. “She graduated a year before me, so you probably never saw her around.” Liam tries to calculate that in his head. Lydia graduated the year before he’d started high school, so that made Allison a sophomore in college before the outbreak.  _Probably 21 then . . . just like Brett._ He tries to shake off the jealousy, but he knows Brett’s uncomfortable with his age and now there’s a beautiful girl his own age around. “She and Scott used to date.”

For some reason that makes Liam feel even more jealous.  _Because she’s got stronger ties to the people you care about than you do. Stop being a baby._

He notes the way Isaac straightens his back out and inches closer to Allison.  _Maybe not much to worry about on that front. They’re definitely fucking._

“I don’t know.” Liam answers, truthfully. “I left with my friends to come out here. Last I saw he and Stiles were alive and at the school.”

He can tell there’s a million things going through Allison’s head, but then she glances up at Isaac, then to Lydia and seems to accept that it’s not something they should push on right now.

“So, how’d you guys make it out?” Brett asks after a bloated pause. “The chapel was surrounded.”

“Aiden.” Lydia speaks before the others have a chance, but they both watch her, apprehensively.  _There is way too much going on here for me to follow._ “And Ethan. They cleared us a way out, but Ethan,” She takes a breath to steady herself and say what Liam’s pretty sure they were all able to figure out the moment she said “but”, “He was bitten.”

“You know Aiden.” Allison has a hand on Lydia’s back. “We all knew he wouldn’t leave his brother behind, so the two of them stayed to buy the rest of us some time.”

“Lydia . . .” Brett looks distraught. “I’m sorry.” He steps closer and wraps her in a hug, which Allison and Isaac both join in on.

All the while Liam’s left standing a few feet away, trying not to feel like he’s intruding on a private moment.  _They’re all friends. Good friends. I don’t belong here._

He’s assuming that Aiden had been Lydia’s boyfriend, but he doesn’t know. He hadn’t even really known her that well before; his biggest memory of her was her shrieking after he threw up on her carpet.

Brett looks up at him a second later and sees his obvious discomfort. He eases out of the hug with a hushed murmur and comes to stand by Liam’s side, squeezing his shoulder, “They’re good people. Don’t worry.”

Liam doesn’t respond, instead looking at the group of three. Lydia’s wiping what are almost tears from her eyes and the other two have protective hands on her. None of them look dangerous or like they’d try to feed either of them to a herd, but that’s not his primary concern.  _It should be, but you’re more worried about being an outsider than you are about survival. That’s your real problem._

“I saw what happened to Cora.” Allison broaches, softly. “I’m sorry, Brett.”

There’s a shroud of grief that comes over him, but he’s able to play it off smoothly – like always. “Thanks.” He glances at Lydia, then to Liam. “We’ve all lost people. Just gotta keep on moving.”

Allison nods, looking at Liam and probably wondering who he’s lost.  _Everyone._  His eyes flick to Brett.  _Not everyone . . . not yet._

“She’s at rest now.” Brett continues, unexpectedly. “Thanks to Liam.” He offers a familiar smile and Liam’s heart skips a beat.

“Thank you.” Allison catches him off guard. She’s staring at him with gratitude now. “Cora was a friend to all of us.”

“Uh, yeah,” He coughs into his arm. “It was, uh, no problem.”  _Way to make a mess of it, Dunbar. No problem? When someone thanks you for killing their undead friend, “no problem”, is a shitty response._

“As much as I’m loving this little chat of ours, how about we bring it inside?” Isaac speaks up and Liam thinks – absently – that the accent’s kind of attractive.  _Maybe I can get Brett to talk like that?_

Brett agrees and urges Liam to follow the others, with a hand at his elbow.

The five of them climb the set of stone steps up to the wooden double-doors, which Isaac pushes open and holds for the others. There was an arched glass panel above the doors once, but it’s been smashed inwards.

There’s another set of steps immediately inside and that lead up to an open reception area that’s got unnecessarily nice furniture in it, which makes Liam feel even more out of place. It’s all covered in thick layers of dust and clearly hasn’t been used recently, but he’s still fairly confident that he’ll manage to break something.

“It’s big right?” Brett’s beaming at him, clearly pleased with his reaction so far. “You’re going to lose it when you see the loft.”

The loft is up three flights of stairs, but that’s not what makes it hard for Liam to breathe when they push through the door at the top of the fourth floor.  _I’ve never seen an apartment this big._

He can barely take it all in. The living room’s enough to stun him into silence on its own, but he can see that there’s other rooms attached to it – none of which look any smaller – and a huge mezzanine overhanging half of the room. _Fucking hell, there’s a goddamn spiral staircase leading up to it._  Liam’s not even sure he’s ever seen a spiral staircase in real life before.

“Pick your jaw up, mate, we just cleaned the floors.” Isaac chuckles, brushing past him and crashing down onto a black leather couch. He kicks his legs up against the back and stretches out. “Can I get back to my nap now?”

“I can see not much has changed.” Brett notes, dryly.

The other three all move past him, leaving Liam to stand there and gape. The ceilings high and there’s exposed pipe and wooden beams up there, but he’s almost certain it was done like that on purpose, not out of lack of money. There’s a series of huge, wide windows lining the front wall, which are letting in more than enough light for everyone to see Liam’s astonishment.

“You can sit, Liam.” Lydia offers, taking a seat on the couch opposite Isaac’s, while Brett fails to suppress a grin.

“Right.” He steps into the living room, unsure of himself.  _Do I take my boots off before I step on that rug?_  It’s a huge decorative thing that the three couches and a glass coffee table are resting on, but none of the others did so he steps onto it and crosses over to sit beside Brett on the third couch, hopefully not making a complete fool of himself.

“Relax.” Brett pats his back. “The furniture isn’t going to bite.”

“It’s just really nice.” Liam tries to explain, but blushes at the four smiles.  _Why are they all looking at me like that?_

“Thanks.” Lydia tilts her head, letting her hair ripple over her shoulder. “I had to make do with what was here, but I think my arrangement really opens up the whole room.”

“Yeah.” Liam agrees, dumbly.  _Like this room needs to be opened up?_  His eyes drift upwards, trying to see over the railing of the platform and get a feel of how much more there is to this place. He can see some discarded clothes hanging over the edge and thinks that it’s a bedroom up there.  _That’s gotta be a big ass bedroom._

“Master bedroom and bathroom.” Brett says, reading his thoughts again. “Three more bedrooms on this level and the bathroom down here’s the one with the working shower.”

“Are you hungry?” Lydia cuts in, attention focused on Liam.

_I’m dirty,_ he wants to say.  _A shower would be real cool._

Brett laughs, “He’s always hungry.”

Liam throws an elbow, but Brett brushes it off amicably.

“Great, you’ll love what I can do with deer.” Lydia’s entire face is bright with a genuine smile, emphasizing how red her lips are against her pale skin. “If you think this is amazing, just wait until I show you the kitchen.”

Liam’s mouth is watering already. “Deer?” He asks, a little too eagerly, shower completely forgotten.

“Ally hunts.” Lydia explains, nodding at the bow – which is now resting against the side of Allison’s couch. “We usually have some fresh meat.”

“Plenty of game roaming into the city without millions of people or rush-hour traffic to scare them off. Sometimes I head north for bigger catches, but it’s not much of a challenge.” Allison says confidently, resting a boot on the coffee table. “Isaac salts whatever we don’t need because, well he needs to do something around here, right?” She shoots him a teasing smile – something Liam’s all too familiar with. He glances at Brett, who’s watching the exchange fondly.

“I pull more than my fair share, thank you very much.” He returns the same smile, but with slightly more bitterness and wounded pride to it.

Liam’s eyes are glued to the black bow, which Allison’s comfortably resting a hand on.  _She knows how to use that thing. Really use it._ He pictures how effortlessly she’d put an arrow through that zombie’s skull, almost on reflex.  _Kind of glad she’s not trying to kill me anymore._

“I could teach you if you want.” It takes him a second to realize she’s speaking to him and that he’s been openly ogling her weapon.

“Oh, uh, I . . . you don’t have to.” He scratches his arm, nervously. “I don’t really know how to.”

“That’s why I’d be teaching you.” Allison laughs, shaking her head. “Men, I swear.”

“He’s got a bad arm.” Brett swoops in before Liam can mumble his appreciation. “Doesn’t look like he’s going to be ready to learn any time soon.”

He’s irritated that Brett spoke for him, but more so that he brought up his stitches and used them as a reason that he can’t help out.  _I’m not going to let a few stitches make me a liability. Not to Brett. Not to anyone._

But Allison’s already moving on, momentarily examining his arm. “Right. I noticed that. You need anything for it?” She makes a point of speaking directly to him – ignoring Brett’s middleman routine – and Liam feels a little bit better about that.

“No.” He shakes his head. “Doesn’t hurt. Just need to keep it wrapped and clean.”

She wants to ask what happened, – he can see it in her eyes – but they flicker to Brett for a brief second and whatever his expression is deters her. This time Liam’s a little grateful for it.

“What happened?” Lydia clearly didn’t get Brett’s message. “Are you okay?”

“Uh . . . yeah.” He knows he’s turning red again, but he does his best not to stutter or mumble. “I just, uh, got hurt.”  _Yep, that’s a good excuse, Liam. They all bought it._

“A little obvious.” Isaac jokes, but neither pursue it any further and Liam’s certain that they all know. Lydia has the renewed kindness in her eyes that people always got when he was younger and they found out that his father used to beat him; and Isaac shoots him a quick look of understanding, before moving on with a smile and some dumb joke that he doesn’t pay attention too.

“Guys.” Allison says to the other two. “It’s gonna take me a while to skin dinner.” Liam’s stomach rumbles loudly at the word, but the others give him the courtesy of letting it slide with minimal chuckling. “So why don’t you two show Liam around and get them both settled in.”

“Sounds good to me.” Isaac chirps, reaching out a hand for Lydia to help him to his feet.

Liam isn’t sure about any of them yet.

He likes Lydia; she’s the most familiar out of all of them, but he doesn’t know if she’s really built for the apocalypse - if she’s still anything like she was in high school anyway. Allison’s nice, but she scares him. Isaac . . . he hasn’t made up his mind yet. He seems a little narcissistic and whiny, but there’s a tenderness to him when he looks at either of the girls, and there’s something familiar about the guarded look in his eyes.

Lydia leads the way on their tour, excitedly pointing out everything in the room. Beyond the spiral staircase – but still somehow in this impossibly large room – is what looks like a second living room; at the end of the first living room,  _really?_  The couches are small there though and there’s no coffee table, but all of the walls are lined with massive bookshelves.

“The reading room.” Lydia calls it, mentioning something about how it’s stocked with books from the college library, but Liam disregards that.  _That’s a lot of kindling._

He’d assumed the master bedroom up on the platform belonged to Allison and Isaac – judging from the pair of men’s jeans hanging over the railing and the archery gloves lying on the stairs, but he catches a brief glimpse of a pink scarf that he can’t imagine belonging to Allison.  _Maybe it’s Isaac’s?_

They file through a large archway and Liam’s completely stunned by the kitchen.  _Mom would have cried to see something this nice._  And outside of the bleeding deer carcass on the island counter, it’s spotlessly clean too. Attached to the kitchen is a dining room with a solid mahogany table, large enough to seat at least a dozen people. There’s even a fucking china cabinet.

Allison splits off from their tour at this point, taking up a spot at the counter and pulling out a knife. Liam looks away before she begins to carve into the beast. He’s not squeamish, he just isn’t particularly fond of blood. Or gore. Or dead things. Especially dead things that don’t stay dead.

“Do you like it?” Brett asks him, suddenly at his side as they follow Isaac and Lydia out into another huge room.

He shakes his head, completely in awe. “It’s . . .”

“Is that good?” Brett looks strangely vulnerable.  _He thinks this place is paradise,_  he reminds himself.  _It’s what his goal’s been for a long time, it’s where he and Cora were supposed to have their happily ever after._

“It’s amazing.” Liam assures him. “I’ve just never seen a house this nice before, never mind gotten to live in it.”

Brett smiles, goldenly, “You do now.”

“Enjoying the sights?” Isaac asks, noting the paintings along the wall. Liam doesn’t really know what they are, but he assumes that means their expensive.

This room’s even more lavish than the others, with actual columns lining the walls and tile instead of hardwood flooring. There’s some nice couches scattered around and a few more bookshelves, but he doesn’t see a purpose for this room at all.

“It’s kind of like a guest wing.” Lydia sees his confusion. “Two bedrooms over there.” She points towards two simple doors at the far end of the room. “That’s the good bathroom.” Her finger sweeps across the room, to a door carved with floral patterns, situated between two paintings of almost-naked women. “Last bedroom’s down that hall. The stairs up to the roof are over there too.”

“Alright, well it looks like you’ve just wrapped up our tour.” Isaac laughs, “You got your pick of the rooms, lads. You can take those two, unless you’re a glutton for privacy. One down the hall’s open too.”

Liam’s confused.  _Which one’s Lydia’s?_

“These two will work.” Brett says and that kind of takes the wind out of Liam.  _Two._

He doesn’t know why he actually thought they’d share. Sure, Brett had told him they could when they were drinking together, but that was before everything happened and now there’s other people around.  _He’s pushing you away._

“Alright, let’s get you unpacked.”

Lydia finds Liam’s hand and pulls him along with her, “You’re going to love the view.” She promises, not noticing his flinch at her touch.  _Her hand’s even softer than Brett’s._

He looks back at Brett over his shoulder, but he’s warmly punching Isaac in the shoulder and laughing . . . not at all worried over the distressed look Liam’s giving him.

Lydia leads him away from them and into the first of the two rooms. He’s no longer surprised by how nice anything here is. The room’s bright and sunny and maybe three times as big as his back home had been. There’s a king sized bed between two of the windows, a nightstand on either side, a huge dresser – not that he’ll be able to fill even one of those drawers with his clothes – a large closet, a desk and chair, a small couch, and yet another bookcase.  _At least it isn’t taller than me this time._

He can’t help but smile at Lydia’s enthusiasm in showing him around, even though he’s trying to hold it together and forget about Brett wanting his own room.  _He’s keeping up appearances,_  he tells himself.

He’s got to give it to Lydia, the view  _is_  amazing. Not anywhere near as nice as the one from the previous dorm they’d been at, but that was also in the city and about eight stories higher; still it’s pretty cool and gives him a decent view of the idyllic town below.

“This is amazing. What’s that?” He asks, pointing to a building with a lot of glass panels, in an attempt to humor her.

“Art museum.” Lydia’s still holding his hand. “It’s even better from the inside. We’ll go sometime, if you want to see it.” Before he can shoot that down, she’s continuing. “Harvard Yard’s just past it too. We go there sometimes when we need to stretch our legs.”

Liam’s reminded of Brett’s promise to get out more often.

Lydia continues to point out the sights for a few minutes, until there’s a knock at the open door. Brett and Isaac enter, Brett holding his half-empty backpack.  _He unpacked his things in the other room._

“Shower’s open.” Brett gives him an inviting look. “You’ve only been complaining for a week.”

“Fuck off.” Liam’s able to chuckle, despite his nerves over Brett pulling away.

“Go ahead.” Brett gestures with his head. “I’ll unpack for you.”

Liam looks to Lydia and she nods, “Towels are in the closet.”

He slips past Brett and Isaac and almost runs into the bathroom. He shuts the door behind him and stares at the abundance of marble and granite in the room. The bathroom’s almost the size of his fucking room, with his-and-hers sinks and plenty of plush rugs. There’s a couple of towels lying on the floor, but Liam sidesteps them to open the closet and pull a fresh one out.  _It’s soft and clean_.

The shower’s a whole other story. _I could fit five of my old showers in here_ , he thinks, pulling open the glass door and looking inside. The thing doesn’t even have a curtain, just glass walls.

“Fucking rich people.” He sighs, but he’s never been more excited in his entire life. The thought of washing away all of the grime from his skin and hair is almost enough to give him a heart attack. He’s quickly kicking out of his clothes and stepping inside.

The stone tiles are cold against his feet, but not nearly as cold as the water when he turns it on. Not that he’d been expecting it to be warm or anything, he just wasn’t ready for the onslaught of frigid water.

Yet the dirt begins to slide off of him in waves, leaving his skin a noticeably lighter color and his desire to get clean has never been stronger – after a minute he almost doesn’t notice the cold anymore. He lets the water wash over his head, running his fingers through his hair and scraping out the caked-in dirt and blood.

A bottle on a little alcove in the smooth granite wall catches his eye. That can’t be . . . shampoo?

_Definitely dead. Strangely in heaven._

He grabs the bottle and squirts a healthy amount onto his palm – not caring at all that it’s girl’s shampoo and smells like melons – before he’s lathering it through his hair.

Rinsing it out, he lingers scrubbing the rest of his body clean. His skin looks a lot paler without all the layers of dirt.  _Brett’s not even going to recognize me,_  he thinks with a smile. He finishes up, not really wanting to get out, but knowing that there’s probably limited water and he doesn’t want to be the reason they’re all back to the dark ages again.

When he steps out he wraps the towel around his waist, just in time to hear a knock at the door.

“Yeah?”

It clicks open, but his embarrassment is nipped when he sees Brett’s head poke through.

“Decent?”

“You didn’t really wait to find out.” Liam states, stepping over to the mirror to look at himself. Brett’s right about him being skinny; the muscle he’d worked hard to gain is starting to melt off of him, more from malnourishment than lack of exercise.

Brett enters and shuts the door behind him. He hands Liam a bundle of clothes, before picking up his dirty ones.

“I figured you didn’t want the girls leering at you in a towel.” He laughs.

“Thanks.” He mumbles, not looking up at him.

“Brought you this too.” Brett produces a toothbrush and Liam has to resist the urge to kiss him. “I’ll leave you to it.” He laughs as Liam’s squirts some toothpaste on it and begins to furiously scrub his teeth clean.

He barely notices when the older boy leaves the room, but after a solid five minutes of brushing his teeth, he spits and rinses.  _I’ve never been that excited to brush my teeth before._  But his mouth feels clean and that’s something he’s definitely grateful for.

Liam dresses quickly, hangs the towel up on the rod, and exits the bathroom.

“You look better.” Allison smiles, “Just came to see how things are going. Lydia’s starting dinner now.”

“Oh. Thanks.” He looks around the room, but can’t find Brett.

“It’s good that you’re not relaxed.” She gets his attention again. “It means you’ve got survivors instincts.”

“Thanks?”

“It’s a compliment.” She assures him. “Just don’t let it stop you from feeling at home here . . . the boys are in your room, arguing about your music taste by the sound of it.”

“We’re going to get along better than I thought.” Isaac’s beaming at him when he walks in, no longer flanked by Allison, who’s vanished back into the kitchen.

“Don’t be so sure of that.” Brett huffs. “You might have the same crappy taste in music, but he’s still cranky.” He walks over to the door, “I’m gonna grab a shower, before dinner. You’re cool with Isaac hanging around right?”

“‘Course he is.” Isaac’s holding up his Metallica shirt, examining it with approval.

“Yeah.” Liam nods with much less enthusiasm, but Brett accepts it.

Liam doesn’t really mean to do it, but Brett being this close causes him to lean up for a kiss.

He regrets it almost immediately when the older boy shrinks away, eyes wide in panic. Brett’s head jerks to the side to make sure there’s no one watching, then to the other side, but Isaac’s too busy admiring Liam’s clothes to notice.

“Liam.” His voice is apologetic when he looks back, no doubt seeing the rejection in his eyes.

“Save it.” Liam slams his shoulder into the older boy’s bicep as he passes, but it doesn’t really have the effect that he’d wanted. Brett just gives him a broken look, constantly glancing back to Isaac, but not saying anything.

“You ever see them live?” Isaac asks, holding up a Slipknot tee. “Heard they’re radge.”

“No.” Liam shakes his head, refusing to look at Brett. The tall boy takes the hint and leaves the room, quietly. That hits even lower than him pulling away did.  _He doesn’t care. He just doesn’t want you to tell his friends that he’s been kissing an underage kid. Fuck him . . ._ Liam has the urge to tell them all, but he knows he’s not going to.

He sits for a minute, listening to Isaac ramble on and on about different bands. Normally he’d love the conversation and be convinced that Isaac’s the coolest person he’s met in years, but he can’t keep his mind focused. Instead he offers different rotations of “yeah”, “uhuh”, “yep”, and “cool”, as Isaac continues on, unperturbed.

“Follow me, mate.” The curly haired boy jumps to his feet, heading out the door. “Let me show you something.”

Liam follows, despite not really wanting to. All he really wants is to curl up under the sheets and scream until he forgets he ever met Brett in the first place.

“Lydia throws a fit over it, but if you ever need a way to kill a rainy day . . .” He trails off when they approach a corner in the back of the room.

There’s a couch – strewn with clothes and snack wrappers – beside another couch which is overturned. The two of them sort of enclose the little area in the corner and on the floor in front of them is a few board games, which look like they’ve been carelessly tossed around, a pile of darts, some dice, and on the wall is a nice painting of an old woman; her face littered with dozens of little holes.

“I call her Betty.” He smiles at Liam’s expression. “She don’t mind it, mate. Must be dead for at least a hundred years now.”

“I’m sure.” Liam knows he’d normally laugh at all the holes in her sagging cheeks, but he just can’t feel it. He takes a seat on the couch, beside Isaac and more or less listens to him talk about music for another few minutes.

“You alright, mate?” Isaac looks at him, stopping in midsentence about how Guns N’ Roses was the best 80’s band – which Liam would normally contradict, because  _are you fucking serious? Metallica? Nirvana?_

“Yeah. I’m cool, why?” He lies, knowing that it doesn’t come out even partially believable.

“You miss him?” He means it as a joke, but his face falls when he sees that Liam doesn’t think it’s funny. “Not making fun of you or anything. You want me to let you alone?”

“I’m just gonna go back to . . .” He’s not sure if he can really call it  _his_  room. “In there. If that’s cool?”

“Of course.” Isaac nods, standing up at the same time that he does. “I’ll go see how dinner’s moving along. Give you a holler when it’s done.”

“Thanks.” The two of them have just gotten around the couch barrier when the bathroom door opens and a very wet, very clean, Brett exits with a towel wrapped loosely around his waist.

Isaac stops beside Liam, letting out a low whistle. “You walk around like that and I’m going to have to start doing sit ups.” He claps Liam on the back, “Think he’s trying to outshine us, mate?”

Liam freezes up, doing his best not to turn and smash his fist into Isaac’s face. His hand’s still lingering on his shoulder, bringing Liam’s anger to the surface.  _Just move your fucking hand before I kill you. Move it. Fucking move it._

“Liam . . .” It’s Brett who speaks, taking a step forward.

Isaac’s looking at him, obviously bewildered. “You alright?”

Liam violently shoves his arm away and rounds on him with his fists clenched, biting the inside of his lip to keep from shouting at him.  _Stop. Move, leave, get out of here, before you hurt someone._

“Dinner’s almost done.” Allison says, entering the room and immediately losing her smile. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” Brett’s beside Liam now; not touching him. “Come talk to me.”

“Don’t have anything to say to you.” He glares up at him. There’s too many sets of eyes on him, examining him. It’s all too fast, he just needs it to stop for a second. Just needs to take a breath. “Leave me the fuck alone.” He turns and storms into the room he’d been forced into, slamming the door behind him with way more force than necessary.

“What did you do?” He can hear Allison demand, clearly irritated.

“Nothing!” Isaac defends, “I swear!”

“It’s not his fault.” Brett’s voice is controlled. “He didn’t know. Let me handle it.”

_You’re not handling shit._  Liam paces the length of the room a few times, knowing that Brett’s coming, but trying to take solace in the short time he has alone.

The voices die out and a moment later there’s a knock at the door.

“Get fucked.” He growls, stopping in the center of the room.

“Liam.” Brett enters without permission. “Just talk to me?”

“Leave me alone.” He demands, standing there with his fists balled up. “I don’t want to look at you.”

“You know I can’t leave you alone right now.” Brett’s eyes flick to his stitches.

“Don’t and it’s going to be you who needs stitches next.” His voice almost gives out, lending more credence to the threat. His hands are starting to shake, so he squeezes his fists tighter, trying to still them.

“Liam-” Brett edges closer, reaching an arm up.

Liam flinches away from it. “Touch me and I’ll kill you.” He swears, shaking his head, unable to look at Brett.

“I don’t know what to do.” Brett admits, watching him with those stupid calm eyes.  _Leave. Me. Alone._

“Neither do I!” He shouts. “Just leave. I need to stop this.” He gets his voice under control, but it’s a struggle. He’s still shaking and his head is muddled with too many things that he can’t process right now.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Brett says, but there’s uncertainty in his eyes. “Just talk to me.”

“I can’t fucking talk like this!” He loses it. “Just go! I need to calm down, before I bash your stupid fucking face in.”

There’s a small flicker of pain in Brett’s eyes and Liam feels a little bit better at that.  _You deserve it._

“I can’t let you hurt yourself.”

“I’m not going to hurt myself, I’m going to hurt you unless you go.” He keeps his feet planted, knowing that if he moves he’ll most likely launch himself at the taller boy with swinging fists. “There’s nothing I can use to hurt myself in here. Just leave. Please.” There’s tears in his eyes, but he blinks them away. “I just need some time. I know what I’m doing.”

There’s conflict on Brett’s face, but he nods. “I’m going to be right out here.” Liam forces his body to obey enough to return the nod. “If you need anything . . . just . . . promise you’ll talk to me after? When you’re cool again? Please?”

Liam nods again, but bites his tongue to keep from hurling more expletives at him.  _What do you want to talk about? Want to beg me to keep your secret? Use me quietly, like Garrett used me and then go back to your friends and laugh at me?_

“Okay.” Brett backs out of the door, “I’ll be right out here.” He repeats, before shutting it softly.

Once he’s alone, Liam lets the tears fall. He hates himself for being so weak, but he can’t help it right now. He can still feel Isaac’s hand on his shoulder, heavy and unwanted.  _I should’ve punched him. I should’ve taught him that he doesn’t have the right to touch me like that._

He collapses onto the bed and pulls a pillow over his head, almost too angry to notice how soft they are and how comfortable the bed is.  _Stupid fucking rich people._

_You knew he was lying to you. He was only interested when you were the only one around to keep him warm at night. Stop letting yourself fall apart over a boy. Garrett would be disappointed if he could see you right now; this is exactly what he’d always warned you about._

He hurls the pillow across the room, dissatisfied by the gentle sound of it colliding with the wall.

Something on the nightstand catches his eye.

_Mom?_

It’s the picture of him and his mother, but he hadn’t put it there.  _Brett._  He must have put it there when he’d unpacked Liam’s things. The thought of his hands on the picture makes Liam even angrier.

_He’s not going to leave me with anything he doesn’t ruin._

_I’m glad I didn’t tell him about dad . . . about the way he’d hit me. The way he’d get me when mom wasn’t home, beat the shit out of me until I was coughing up blood and then doing the same to mom when she got home from work; threatening to kill me if she told anyone. And then when I got beat up at school and he found out the reason was because the kids thought I was gay . . . that only made it worse. The beatings got more and more violent until mom called the ambulance, convinced that I was dying. That’s when the police took him away, drunk and shouting about how he’d kill us when he gets out._

He scoffs, wiping his eyes with his forearm. “That’s the memory he left you. The thing that he hasn’t ruined.” He laughs at that, picking the picture of his mother up.

_She’d want you to stop._  He feels guilty at the thought, knowing that his mother always told him not to give in to his anger. _I don’t know what else to do._

_That’s a lie._

He resents the thought.  _I’m not doing that. I’m not using that to try and forget about him._

_The sun . . ._

_It’s stupid. I can’t use something he taught me to get him out of my head._

_The moon . . ._

_Not him. The anger. That’s what you need to get rid of. The pain isn’t. You can handle the pain. You’ve always been able to handle the pain._

“The truth.” He whispers, looking at the picture and tracing the lines of his mother’s face. He tries to imagine her cool hand on his forehead, soothing his anger, but the only hand he can conjure to mind is a little colder and a lot bigger.

“The sun, the moon, the truth.” He repeats, shutting his eyes. “The sun, the moon, the truth. The sun, the moon, the truth. The sun, the moon, the truth.” It takes longer than he thinks his patience will allow for, but he begins to get a steady control of his breathing as he continues on with the chant. “The sun, the moon, the truth . . .”

* * *

He’s been repeating the mantra for some time now, but at some point he lost track of the time and isn’t really all that sure how long it’s actually been.

His eyes open and he’s unsure of the calm he feels.  _This isn’t normal._  He doesn’t trust how long it’ll last or under what circumstances, but he feels better.  _In control_.

Liam sits up, rubbing at his eyes, which are sore and probably bright red. He looks back at the picture of his mom, brushing a thumb over her face. “Love you, mom.” New tears spill over, but he quickly wipes them away and slips the picture into his pocket.

“I’ll get him.” From beyond the door, he can hear the apprehension in Brett’s voice.

“No, it’s okay.” Liam recognizes Lydia’s voice. “I got it. Go help them put out plates.”

There’s a knock at the door, soft and tentative.

“What?” His voice is calm, something he hadn’t really been expecting.

“It’s me.” Lydia announces. “Can I come in?”

“Uh, yeah.” Liam wipes at his eyes again, trying to get rid of any evidence that he’s been crying – despite knowing that it’s not that easy to hide.

“Hey.” She says, gently.

“Hey.” He returns, not knowing what to do with himself.

“Can I sit?” She asks and he nods, not looking at her. “Feel any better?”

“Not really.” He says, smiling a bit. “I feel like shit. And a little bitch.”

“You know that’s not true.” She looks like she wants to reach out to him, but she doesn’t and he’s thankful for that. He hadn’t reacted that badly to her touch before, but he’s not sure he’s ready for it again. “Scott told me about your problem.” She shakes her head at the look on his face. “He wasn’t trying to betray your trust, he just thought I’d be able to help you.”

“How?” He asks, pitifully.

“Empathy, mostly.” She shrugs. “Diagnosed Bipolar,” Lydia smiles at his reaction. “I know, right? I couldn’t believe it at first either.”

“But you . . .”

“Have my shit together? Yeah, trust me sweetheart, it’s not so easy sometimes.” Her red locks sway when she shakes her head. “When I lost Aiden . . . I didn’t think I’d ever be okay again . . . Can I show you something?”

“Yeah.” He says, watching her with a different kind of interest. He would never have pegged her as fucked up.

Lydia rolls back the sleeve of her sweater and flips her arm over, showing him the dark scars that mar the otherwise flawlessly porcelain skin.

“First time I did it I was only fourteen.” She admits, pointing to one of the smaller cuts, which was still deep enough to leave a scar years later. “It got really bad senior year, when Ally left for Boston, I felt alone . . . you don’t feel alone, do you?”

He doesn’t answer her, trying to keep himself together.

“You’re not.” Lydia assures him, with such sincerity that he almost believes her. “I don’t know exactly what happened, but Brett cares about you a lot. Trust me that boy usually doesn’t have a care in the world, but he looks like a complete wreck out there . . . and you’ve got me. I’m your friend Liam. Ally and Isaac can be too, if you’ll have them. She might seem hard at first, but she’s just trying to take care of us. And Isaac’s torn up right now, it took me forever to get him to relax and not barge in here with a thousand apologies and what’s left of his chocolate stash.”

Liam laughs at that, a little. “Why’d you stop him?”

“I don’t know what I was thinking.” She smiles back at him. “You have a really nice smile.”

He feels heat rise to his cheeks and he drops his eyes to his clasped hands.

“You’re not alone here, Liam.” She offers her hand, but there’s no expectation in her eyes. She won’t be upset if he doesn’t take it. But he does. It’s small, warm, and soft. “Don’t hide that smile.” She helps him to his feet and winks at him. “You never know who could be falling in love with it.”

“Yeah.” He scoffs. “I’m sure me and my future zombie wife will be so happy together.”

She gives him a look, but shakes her head. “C’mon. Dinner’s done and I know you’re starving. Your stomachs been growling at me this entire time.”

He can’t really deny that.

Brett and Isaac are already seated at the dining room table when they enter, while Allison is busy with a pot in the kitchen. The deer’s gone and Liam’s a little thankful for that.

“Have a seat,” Lydia says, “We’ll get you a bowl. You’re gonna love my stew.”

Liam smiles and thanks her, taking a seat at the table while avoiding both Brett and Isaac’s concerned looks. Both are seated opposite of him, fidgeting nervously and opening their mouths to speak, without actually doing so.

“Here you go.” Lydia places a bowl in front of him a moment later; setting her own down next to him. Allison serves the other two, then takes her seat at the head of the table.

He looks down at the thick brown stew in his bowl and his mouth waters. His hand immediately goes for the offered spoon and dips into the broth.

“Join hands for grace.” He almost chokes at the sound of Allison’s voice and quickly looks up at her.

“Oh my god, I’m kidding.” She laughs, causing a ripple effect through the rest of them. “You should see your face though.”

He shakes his head and goes back to his food, spooning a decent amount into his mouth and trying not to groan at how good it tastes. He’s been surviving off canned goods, dried meat, and candy for almost a year now, and this stew . . . is really good.

“Are these carrots?” Brett asks, in disbelief.

“Yeah.” Lydia sounds proud. “We’ve got a garden on the roof. Carrots, tomatoes, potatoes; Isaac and I’ve got a whole system going up there.”

“It’s the least I can do,” Isaac chimes in, throwing a look at Allison, “Since apparently I don’t do much else around here.”

She smiles at him, affectionately. “You know I didn’t mean it, babe.”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” He mutters into his stew.

Liam’s barely paying attention to the conversation, too busy on shoveling the thick stew into his mouth and trying not to choke on the meat, carrots, potatoes, and other things he hasn’t tasted in a year.

“Want more?” Lydia asks, once he’s finished his bowl - faster than any of the others.

His cheeks turn red, but he nods. “I can get it.” He stops her from getting up.

He heads over to the kitchen and ladles more into his bowl, trying to keep his saliva in his mouth, but he almost can’t believe this. Walking back to the table he catches Brett eyeing him with a smile.

They meet eyes for barely a second, but it’s almost too much for Liam. Brett’s smile slips away and is replaced by an apologetic look of concern, which Liam doesn’t acknowledge.

The conversation dies out, despite Lydia’s attempts to keep it rolling. They all kind of lose their will to keep up the appearance of normalcy and Liam feels bad. They’d probably all be laughing and reminiscing if he wasn’t seated here, cramping their reunion.

The sound of clinking silverware replaces the laughter and friendly voices – which, first of all, is strange in itself as Liam’s been so used to eating with his hands, he didn’t ever think he’d use a spoon again.

“Fuck it,” Isaac says abruptly, drawing all eyes. “I’m sorry, mate. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Isaac.” Allison snaps.

“Well, god damn Ally, I’m apologizing.”

“It’s okay.” Liam says, before the two of them can start fighting in earnest. “I shouldn’t have gotten so worked up over it. It’s no big deal.”

“It is if it bothered you.” Isaac looks at him sincerely. “I meant nothing by it.”  _That accent really is the coolest thing I’ve heard in a while._ “Next time just knock me upside the head.”

Liam laughs, “I’ll try to remember that.”

“See that, Ally?” Isaac turns to her with a look of victory. “I can give a proper apology.”

“You can do something alright.” She shakes her head and looks at Liam. “We want you to feel safe here, Liam. If there’s anything we can – or shouldn’t – do, just say the word.”

“Thanks.” He tries not to pay attention to them all looking at him and finishes up his stew.

“Well, I’m shattered.” Isaac stretches his arms upwards and yawns. “I’m going to get some shut eye.”

“We should all head to bed.” Allison stands and begins to collect the bowls, rejecting Liam’s offer of assistance.

A few seconds pass and he realizes that he’s the only one still seated, so he climbs out of the chair and watches as Allison dumps all the dishes into the sink, before meeting Isaac under the archway and taking his hand.

“If you need anything, just give us a shout.” Isaac smirks as Allison swats at him. “We don’t have much of a door, so advance warning is advised.”

Liam’s watching Lydia. He’s thinking about asking her to talk with him, just so that he doesn’t have to walk back towards his room alone with Brett, but she looks really tired. He doesn’t want to keep her up.

“I’ll be up in a minute.” Lydia says to the other two. “I want to talk to them for a second.”

_Wait . . ._

“Alright, don’t be too long.” Allison reaches out for her hand and then completely stuns Liam by stepping forward and kissing her, deep and slow. His surprise is magnified a thousand times when Isaac does the same thing, before they turn and leave the room to ascend the spiral staircase.

“You both look like I just sprouted a second head.” Lydia laughs, looking at them.

Liam turns to Brett, making sure that he’s not the only one who just saw that.

Brett’s clearly as caught off guard as he is. “So you guys . . .” He coughs, “You’re all, uh . . .”

“Together.” Lydia nods, rolling her eyes. “It’s weird, I know.”

“How long?” Brett questions.

“Only a few months.” She admits, “After Aiden and Ethan . . . it just sort of happened. I needed them and they came to me. It’s not something I ever expected to happen, but I’m happy.” Liam can tell by her face that she really is happy. And he’s happy for her.  _She deserves it._

Lydia moves towards them and reaches out to grab a hand from each of them. She smiles, kindly, “The world’s changed.” She informs them, pressing their hands into each other and Liam instinctively threads his fingers through Brett’s. “No one’s around to judge.”

Liam glances up at Brett and he looks like his entire world’s just been upended. He’s about to pull his hand away, when Brett tightens his grip on it and looks at Liam with utter and complete sincerity, begging for forgiveness.

“I’m sorry.” He says, voice cracking. “I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know.” Liam says. He’s certain of it. He’s doubted Brett too many times and been proven wrong every single one of them.

“Take comfort where you find it.” Lydia says, eyes moving back and forth between their faces. “Don’t let anything get in the way of how you feel.”

“I won’t.” Brett promises, still looking at Liam. He turns to Lydia, “Thank you.”

“Don’t sweat it.” She waves him off. “Let me paint your nails tomorrow and we’ll call it even.”

“Over my dead body.” He laughs and Liam smiles.

Their laughter and smiles fade and Lydia nods. “Get some sleep, boys. Goodnight.” With that she’s gone, leaving the two of them alone in the kitchen.

“I was stupid.” Brett says, still clutching Liam’s hand. “Can you forgive me?”

“Of course, stupid.” Liam shakes his head. “Maybe I shouldn’t, but I do.”

“I’ll take it.” Brett leans in for a kiss and Liam’s more than willing to give into it.

They break apart a moment later, both breathing a little heavier. Brett releases his hand to circle his arms around Liam’s waist and rest his chin on top of his head.

“Your hair smells nice.” Brett notes. “It’s strange.”

“You don’t smell like you just ran a marathon.” Liam grins into the fabric of his shirt.

“Think we can get used to the high life?”

“Definitely.” Liam bites at his chest, making the older boy suppress a groan.

“Tired?”

“Beat.” Liam affirms, following as Brett leads the way back through the “guest” wing, until they reach Liam’s room. He’s a little nervous that they’re about to part ways, but Brett continues straight into his room and shuts the door behind them.

“Oh, you want to stay the night?” He teases, eyes fixed on Brett as he begins to undress.

“Is that a problem?” The older boy tosses his shirt onto the floor and slides his jeans off.

“Guess not.” Liam pulls the taller boy into another kiss. “This mean you’re moving in?”

“If you’ll have me.” Brett kisses the tip of his nose. “I really am sorry, Liam. I don’t ever want you to think that I don’t want this . . .” He looks down at them and tugs at the bottom of Liam’s shirt, sliding it up his torso. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop wanting this.”

Liam’s shirt’s gone a moment later. “Sure hid it well.” He says, not trying to make him feel like shit, but he does kind of deserve an explanation.  _I already know, but I need to hear it from his mouth. I need to hear him tell me the truth._

“I didn’t want them to know.” He admits, confirming Liam’s suspicions. “I was afraid how they’d react, not ‘cause you’re a guy, but you’re . . . younger.” He picks the word, carefully. “There wasn’t a second where I wanted to stop this.” He kisses at Liam’s neck, unbuttoning his jeans for him. “It was stupid of me to try and hide it, because trust me, I never want to hide you. I’m so proud of you.”

“Shut up.” Liam’s cheeks are burning. “Say anything like that again and I’m taking my forgiveness back.”

“One more thing.” His jeans slide to the ground, leaving the two of them in their boxers. “I need you to know that I don’t think you’re a kid. The things you’ve been through . . . you’re as much a man as I am. Probably more so, actually. I’m sorry if I made you feel any different.”

“I’m definitely taking it back.” Liam shakes his head, but presses a rough kiss to Brett’s gentle lips. “Get in bed.” Brett obeys, sliding beneath the covers and holding them open for Liam. “One second.” He squats down to fish the picture of his mother out of his jean’s pocket.

“Left that out for you.” Brett says, when he sees Liam place it back on the nightstand.

“I know.” Liam sits on the edge of the bed, looking down at the image.

“What’s the matter?” Brett asks, scooting closer and laying a familiar hand on Liam’s hip.

He doesn’t think he’s going to tell him at first, but then he says, “I’m forgetting things.” Brett doesn’t respond and Liam realizes he’s waiting for him to elaborate. “I’m forgetting what she sounded like. How she smelled . . . and not just her. My stepdad, Scott . . . I’m forgetting who they all were.”

“You’re not.” Brett sits up, kissing the back of Liam’s neck. “You’ve told me so much about them all, it feels like I know them sometimes.”

“Then why can I barely remember the sound of my mom’s voice?” He demands.

“You can’t remember everything,” Brett explains. “Do you remember your first steps? Or your third birthday?”

“No.” Liam admits.

“The brain can’t hold everything.” He continues, “But you remember the important things. You remember how much she loves you and how much you love her. It’s okay to forget some things, you can’t beat yourself up over it.”

“It feels like . . . like she’s slipping away.”

“I know.” Brett says, thickly. “Trust me, I know, but . . . that’s what death is y’know?”

Liam thinks of Cora and how Brett’s probably going through the same thing with her. Losing the things that made her feel alive to him.

“Do you remember how she smelled?” He asks, knowing that Brett will know what he means.

“Not really.” He admits. “I remember how she walked, though. She was the most graceful person I’ve ever met, like she was part cat or something.” He chuckles, tightening his hold on Liam. “Made me look like a clumsy moron in comparison.”

“No worries of that happening here.” Liam mutters.

“Don’t compare yourself to her.” Brett’s tone is serious. “You’re different people.”

“I think that’s obvious.”

“Seriously . . . plus, you’re good at things she wasn’t.” Brett bumps their heads together. “You’re kinder. She wouldn’t have tried to talk our way out of that situation with Corey, not if she thought it was a risk. You’re forgiving too, she wouldn’t have put up with all the shit I’ve put you through . . . and you’re a hell of a lot better at kissing.”

That gets Liam’s attention. “Really?”

“Hell yeah.” Brett laughs at his reaction, squeezing him. “I’ve never kissed anyone with your enthusiasm. I can’t believe you don’t have more dating experience.”

Liam turns to look at him. “She’d hate me, wouldn’t she?”

“No.” Brett shakes his head, adamantly. “I know for a fact that she wouldn’t. That’s what I mean, you don’t forget the important things; you don’t forget who they are at their core. Cora would have loved you and she’d have loved how happy you make me.”

“Seriously?” Liam doubts. “Even with this,” He leans into Brett’s touch, letting him pull him under the covers. “I stole her boyfriend.”

Brett laughs, circling his arms around Liam’s middle. “You didn’t. She’s gone, Liam. She’s at peace and this . . . this wouldn’t bother her. She’s always wanted what’s best for me and that’s you.” His lips find Liam’s earlobe. “Please don’t worry about this. I love her and I always will . . . but that doesn’t mean I can’t love you too.”

Liam doesn’t say anything in return.  _Relax, he didn’t say he loves you . . . he just said that he can. Calm down._  He’s not sure how he feels about it, but he knows he’s scared and doesn’t want to talk about it anymore. There’s too many things spinning through his head for him to give a good response to that.

Brett doesn’t seem concerned with his silence.

“You’re really cute in that picture.” He mentions, casually. “What the hell happened? You got so grumpy.”

“Bite me.” Liam grumbles; not all that surprised when Brett does in fact bite him.

“You’re still pretty cute, I’ll give you that.” His teeth nibble at Liam’s neck. “Hell of a lot more handsome too.”

“Go to sleep.” Liam laughs as Brett’s fingers scramble up his side. “Seriously, knock it off.” But his tone betrays him and Brett’s prodding fingers continue to elicit laughter. “Quit it, B!”

Brett stops, but rubs a few soothing circles down Liam’s bare stomach, grinning brightly.

“You called me B.” He says, favorably.

“Is that okay?” Liam asks, unsure of himself. He’s had to bite it back a few times before, but it feels natural on his tongue; like he’s always called him that.

“Of course.” Brett kisses his cheek. “Can I call you Li?” There’s a slight worry in his voice and Liam knows it’s because he’s only ever heard Garrett and Violet call him that.  _He’s not Garrett or Violet though . . ._

“Maybe, I’ll just stick with big tree.” He jokes.

“Only if you want to be my little pup.” Brett retorts, giving him a challenging look in the darkness.

“Li it is.” Liam agrees, tilting his neck to allow Brett better access when he leans in to mouth at him. He leaves a series of wet and sloppy kisses down Liam’s neck and onto his shoulder.

Liam’s very aware now of how comfortable the bed is and how warm the sheets are around them – almost warm enough to make up for Brett’s cold hands on his skin.

Brett’s head comes to rest on his shoulder, but he continues to rub Liam’s belly.

The contact sends goosebumps down his arms and his interest is definitely stirred, but he controls himself. Sure, Brett’s just admitted Liam’s a man and not a kid and he could probably push that into getting a little bit more clothes to come off, but he doesn’t want to ruin the moment. He’s also a little nervous about actually going there. Also there’s a picture of his mom sitting two feet away and that’s really not how he wants to lose his virginity – trying to avoid making accidental eye contact with the woman who carried him for nine months.

_Not tonight then._

“Night, Liam.” Brett kisses his cheek again.

“Night, Brett.” Liam whispers and shuts his eyes, almost immediately being pulled under and into the dark.

He doesn’t have a nightmare that night though, in fact, he doesn’t dream at all. He sleeps soundly; feeling warm and safe. Like he’s finally found where he belongs.

* * *

**Brett’s POV**

Brett continues to rub Liam’s stomach until the younger boy’s breathing slows and he begins to snore. He smiles at the sound, which is growing more and more familiar as each night passes.

_Never thought I’d find someone’s snoring cute._

He takes in the dark room. He’s going to move his things in tomorrow, not that it makes much of a difference considering he barely owns anything, but he thinks it’ll make Liam feel better. Plus it’s a big room and they’ve been sharing much smaller for weeks now.

_I’d been hoping to snag us the mezzanine._  His thoughts drift to his three friends and their relationship. It’s not something he’d ever expected from Lydia, but his suspicions had begun to arise when they were offered their pick of all three bedrooms. _They’re happy._

He looks down at Liam’s sleeping face.  _I’m happy._

_She’s the only one who’s ever called me B before,_  he thinks, picturing Cora’s smile. It come’s easier than normally and for a brief moment he can hear her laugh again, before it fades away. But it doesn’t leave him upset or trying to cling to it; instead he lets it drift away like wind.  _I hope you’ve found your peace, my love. You deserve it._

_She’s moving on, but I’m still here._  His eyes trace the outline of Liam’s nose.  _I’m still here and I’m lucky enough to have him at my side._

_I hope you like him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this has been my favorite chapter so far (also the longest) and I'm really happy with how it turned out. I was excited to bring in new characters and I love Lydia so much, I'm happy to use the opportunity to write her. Hopefully I didn't butcher anyone's personality too badly :)
> 
> Like always let me know what you all think. I'm really looking forward to writing the Lydia/Allison/Isaac relationship.


	12. Allison's Law of Zombie Apocalypse Survival

**Brett’s POV**

For once Brett wakes up relaxed and with Liam – warm in his arms.

“You smell so much better.” Liam’s face is pressed up against his chest, his breath sending chills down Brett’ spine.

“Same goes for you.” Brett kisses the top of his head and tries to untangle their legs, but Liam doesn’t make it easy on him. “What’re you doing?” He laughs, giving up on his struggle.

“Don’t wanna get up.” Liam shrugs, squeezing him tighter and undoing the small amount of progress Brett had made. “It’s not like we need to. There’s plenty of supplies here. No corpses to watch out for in the penthouse.”

Brett knows he should rebuke that and warn Liam about getting complacent, but he can’t bring himself to do it – not while he’s got a very warm, very affectionate Liam in his bed.  _While I’m in his bed, I guess._

He’s not going to be getting any more sleep, the bright sunlight pouring in through the giant windows is making sure of that, but he’s definitely not opposed to lying in bed with Liam for a while.  _Not opposed at all . . ._

There’s a part of him that’s still hung up on Liam being younger than him, –  _a month and 4 years younger_  – but it’s getting harder and harder to justify.

Liam’s squirming against him, causing him to chuckle. “Are you trying to climb inside of me?”

“You want me inside of you?” Liam’s head lifts to look him in the eyes; expression completely serious.

“That was smooth.” Brett kisses him as he loses his cool and bursts into laughter, “Kind of gross, but smooth.” He rolls the two of them so that he’s on top of the smaller boy, capturing his bottom lip between his teeth.

“That wasn’t a no.” Liam’s hands are resting on his waist, teasing at the waistband of his boxers.

“No.” Brett says, in between kisses.

“You said I’m a man.” Liam complains, breathlessly, as Brett sinks to his neck and bites down gently.

“You are.” He continues moving south, leaving a trail of wet kisses on his way.

“So . . ?”

“Didn’t say no in general.” Brett nips at his collarbone. “Just rather not have you inside me. If you get my drift.”

“Holy shit, B.” Liam gasps as he reaches his nipple, taking the dark bud into his mouth. Brett smiles when he feels a hand fist into his hair.

_Haven’t heard that in a long time,_  he thinks,  _but I definitely like it coming from his mouth._

“Never done that before.” He continues, moving away from Liam’s nipple as the younger boy thrusts his hips into the air, desperate for friction. Brett feels his clothed erection pocking him in the abdomen and tries not to laugh.  _His enthusiasm doesn’t only apply to kissing, I guess._  “Not really sure I want to either.”

“Neither have I.” Liam points out, as Brett bites at his belly.  _That’s a good point._

“I’m taller?” He glances up at him, grinning and wiping the saliva from his lips with the back of his arm.

“Exactly, so it’ll probably be easier on you.” Liam’s ankles hook the back of his knees, keeping him down there and unable to crawl back up – which he’d been planning on because,  _damn look at those lips._

“Don’t know about that.” Brett rolls his body forward, brushing his stomach up against Liam’s member. “You’re definitely not small.” He watches with a mix of curiosity and affection as Liam’s face turns crimson. “So you can rub it up on me, but I can’t talk about it without turning you into a tomato?”

“Blow me.” Liam retorts.

“That I can do.” Brett smirks against Liam’s lower belly, kissing the sensitive skin on his way down. His hands find Liam’s waistband and the younger boy’s hips lift to let him tug it downwards – just as the door slams open and Brett’s head spins to face a very cheerful looking Isaac.

“Rise and shi-it.” His mouth drops open in shock.

“You don’t knock?” Brett growls, shifting his body so that he’s almost completely covering Liam.

“Sorry lads.” He clears his throat and coughs nervously, but there’s a mocking smile on his lips. “I didn’t know Liam had a friend over.”

Brett rolls off of Liam with a heavy sigh, but makes sure to pull the comforter over the younger boy’s lower half to try to save him as much dignity as possible.  _Not that that’s really an option. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this red. How the hell does someone’s entire body blush?_

“Isaac, I’m going to kill you one day.” Brett throws and arm over his eyes, trying to block out the light and the sight of Isaac ruining his morning.

“How was I supposed to know you were shagging the little one?!” Isaac demands. “I came in here with my innocent little heart, with only the intent to gently wake him up and try not to get my head bitten off as he makes a mad dash for the breakfast table.”

“There’s food, Li.” Brett taps the younger boy’s shoulder.

“Aye.” Isaac nods, looking back and forth between them. “Well . . . I’m going to leave now . . . take your time. Be safe. Use protection.” Brett hurls a pillow at him, but he quickly darts out the door and slams it shut.

“I told you not to go in there!” Lydia’s voice carries straight through the door and Liam mumbles, “Oh god” under his breath, rolling to bury his head into Brett’s arm.

“You didnae tell me why!” Isaac defends; Brett can hear the laughter in his voice. “I can’t say I ever expected that.”

“You’re so juvenile.” The eye roll is audible.

“He does well for himself, no?”

“I’m going to kill him.” Brett laughs, smoothing a hand down Liam’s bare back. His skin’s hot to the touch, but Brett’s growing used to it,  _growing to love it actually_.

“Not if I do it first.” Liam grumbles. “Or you could just kill me.”

“I’ve never seen you this red.” Brett rolls onto his side, looking down at how bright the back of Liam’s neck and shoulders are. “You almost look sunburned.”

“Liquid anger.” Liam’s voice is muffled against Brett’s chest.

He leans down and kisses the back of Liam’s neck, liking the shiver it sends down his body. He himself is already starting to forget about the intrusion and ready to get back to their earlier  _activities_ , but he’s not so sure Liam’s there – especially not after being embarrassed.

“We should go.” Liam confirms his thoughts. “Before they think . . .”

“We’re fucking?” He offers.

Liam nods, his jaw clenching and relaxing as he plays out a number of probably humiliating conversations in his head.

“Fine.” Brett sighs, rolling off of him and stretching his arms out. “But I just want to point out that it’s you turning me down this time.” He doesn’t move to actually get out of bed, though, instead folding his arms behind his head.

“I’m not.” Liam gripes. “But I already know the looks we’re going to get.”

Brett laughs. “We can give them right back.” He’s still a little uncertain on how his friends worked that out. He’s always had some suspicions about Lydia and Allison’s relationship, but he can’t picture Isaac with Lydia.  _None of my business anyway. Lucky bastard._

Liam looks up at him, still red, with conflict written across his face.  _Not nearly as lucky as me._

“Stop that.” Liam grunts, head-butting him lightly.

“What?”

“Looking at me like that.” He groans, yet loops one leg through Brett’s anyway. “It’s weird.”

“Just admiring the view.” Brett chuckles, taking in the broad expanse of skin Liam’s currently showing off. “Never really get to see you like this that often.”

“I see you like this all the time.” Liam responds, running a rough hand up Brett’s chest. “You always trying to be naked is probably why you have the core body temperature of an icicle.”

Brett tilts his head in agreement and leans into Liam’s touch. “Just means I need you to warm me up.”

Liam wags his eyebrows in a way that makes Brett laugh. “Yeah?” He brings his face close to Brett’s, brushing their lips together and pressing his hips forwards.

“Later though.” Liam’s out of bed before Brett can react, stretching out his small frame and leaving Brett without his personal heater. _Cruel little bastard._

“If you’re trying to kill the mood you’re not doing a good job.” Brett lifts his head and watches as Liam stretches, bending over to brush the tips of his fingers to his toes.  _He’s got a nicer butt than most girls I’ve ever dated._

“Stop being a perv.” Liam straightens out, then turns to face him and offers a hand.

Brett clasps it and allows the younger boy to pull him to a sitting positon.

“Get up.” Liam yanks at his arm, “I’m hungry.”

“You’re always hungry.” Brett waves him off. “Just get dressed.”

“Whatever.” Liam sighs at his refusal to get out of bed; focusing on gathering his clothes and pulling them on instead. Brett watches with dismay as inch after inch of his freshly cleaned body is covered up. “I’m going to eat.”

“Right behind you.” Brett gets to his feet, throwing an arm around Liam’s shoulders and ruffling his hair, before kissing the top of his head.

“You’re not dressed.”

“Me and Isaac shared a dorm room.” Brett hums. “They’re my friends; they don’t care.”

Liam uncertainly wraps an arm around Brett’s bare waist. “You’re embarrassing.”

“Wanna take a shower later?” Brett ignores him as he opens the door and steps out into the main area of the guest wing, feeling the cold tile beneath his feet. “Together?”

“It’s not even warm.” Liam retracts his arm, shaking his head at the way Brett shivers. “You’ll be even colder than you are now.”

“Dude, that’s why you’ll be there to keep me warm. Just like you should be doing right now.”

“Sucks.” Liam brushes past him and makes a point of entering the dining room first.

“Hello, abs.” Lydia smiles when Brett walks in a moment later, while Allison rolls her eyes, Liam pretends to be busy at the counter, and Isaac shakes his head disapprovingly.

“In my own house, mate?” Isaac’s looking at him like he’s been stabbed through the heart. Brett answers with a smile. “You already got the little one, stop trying to steal my girls!”

“No one’s stealing anyone.” Allison cuts in, but Brett can feel her eyeing him nonetheless.

“He might steal me.” Lydia’s smirking at Allison, completely unaware of the glares that both Isaac and Liam send her way.

Brett takes his seat in the same spot as last night, folding his arms on the table and resting his head on them.

“Morning.” He mumbles to Allison, who’s sharpening some arrows next to him. There’s an empty bowl of oatmeal on the table in front of her.

“Good morning.” She smiles at him genuinely, before returning to her task. “How’d you sleep?” She doesn’t look up.

“Really great, actually.” He answers, watching the skill and control with which her hands move.  _I guess being president of the archery club turned out to have a use after all._

“That’s good.” She looks like she wants to say something. The brief flicker of her eyes across the room tells him exactly what that is.

“Go ahead.”

“What?”

“Ally.” Brett looks her directly in the eyes. “Go ahead.”

She bites her lip, eyes moving to Liam again – who’s laughing at something Isaac said, apparently having gotten over his dislike of the curly haired Scot – to make sure he’s not paying them any attention.

“How is he?” She asks, voice low.

“Managing.” Brett says, “He’s got some problems, but we’re working through them.”

“You two are together?”

“We are.” Brett holds her gaze, unsure of what to expect in the dark eyes, but there’s no judgement; only concern.

“Cora . . .”

“I still love her.” He affirms, knowing she’s worried about him. “I always will, but she’s gone. Liam’s . . . fuck, I don’t even know, he’s amazing. Stubborn and a pain in the ass, but he’s as brave as she ever was, and- I don’t know, Ally, I like him. Is that cool?”

“Of course.” She whispers. “You know I don’t care about that. I just wanted to make sure you’re not projecting feelings onto him.” Her lips flatten into a sad line. “Feelings that were meant for someone else.”

“The two of you took too many psychology classes.” Brett shakes his head. “I care about him and I cared about him before he did what he did for her.” Their conversation wraps up as Lydia sets a bowl of oatmeal down in front of him. “Thanks.”

Liam’s on his way over with his own bowl.

“I’m sorry.” She says, “I didn’t mean-”

Brett silences her with a single look as Liam takes his seat at the table and begins to scarf down his food; completely oblivious to the tension between himself and Allison. Brett slowly starts to eat, trying to move past it.

_She’s just trying to make sure you’re okay,_  he tells himself, already feeling guilty over the exchange.  _She’s your friend and she’s worried about you. Hell I’m worried about me too._  His eyes rake over Liam as he digs into his bowl, shoveling its contents into his mouth like he’s being timed.

_But I know that I want to be with him . . ._ he smiles as Liam drops some oatmeal on his jeans, scoops it up with his finger and the sticks it in his mouth.  _Though I can’t imagine why._

“Should we talk about it?” Isaac asks, almost making Liam choke on his food. “I think we should talk about it.”

“Isaac.” Allison warns.

“C’mon,” Isaac smiles at Brett. He can’t help but return it. Sure, Isaac’s annoying and kind of an asshole, but he’d been one of Brett’s best friends and he knows how to lighten a mood with his talent for making any situation seem trivial. “Just let me get out my feelings.”

Lydia seats herself next to a very red Liam and Brett sees her offering her hand to him underneath the table; which he takes after a moment of hesitation. Brett pretends like he doesn’t notice it, but he can’t deny that he’s happy the two of them are apparently getting along so well. Lydia’s the kind of girl who would do anything for her friends and Liam’s the kind of guy who really needs a friend.  _She’s also from his hometown. They have shared memories together; things that’ll help him hold onto hope._

“Get them all out, dude.” Brett grabs a glass of water and takes a sip. “I’ve got some things to get off my chest too.”

“Oh boy.” Lydia sighs and she and Allison share a look.

“I’m happy for you, mate.” Isaac claps Brett on the shoulder, almost making him drop his cup. “He’s a looker ain’t he?” His eyes flick to Liam, teasingly. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to forgive you for keeping secrets.”

“You didn’t tell me about the three of you.” Brett points out, as he takes another bite of oatmeal and completely ignores the stares he’s getting from Liam and the girls.

“Nae, I damn well showed you, didn’t I?” Isaac’s grinning from ear to ear. “Snogged her right in front of you.”

Brett chuckles, “I think we repaid you in kind this morning.”

“Hey.” Lydia gets both of their attention. “We’re not all enjoying this conversation as much as the two of you, you know.”

Brett looks at Liam’s expression and holds in a fit of laughter, attempting a smile instead. “Sorry.”

“Well I’m not.” Isaac seems completely immune to the glares of his . . .  _girlfriends?_  “It’d be moronic to ignore it, we’re all mates here, aren’t we?”

Brett’s still watching Liam, knowing that he’s uncomfortable with all of this, but also knowing that it’s due to him never really being accepted before.  _He needs this. He might not like it, but he needs to know that it’s not a big deal and that there’s people who don’t give a fuck who he fucks. Or almost fucks._

_So maybe he isn’t used to it . . . but I’m going to make sure that he gets there._

“Agreed.” Brett nods, gently kicking at Liam’s leg. “I’m happy for the three of you too, just so you all know.” He looks into Lydia’s eyes, honestly. “You guys deserve to be happy.”

A couple awkward seconds of silence tick by, before Lydia takes a deep breath and releases Liam’s hand so that she can clasp her own together.

“Now that that’s done, does anyone want more?” She looks around the table.

Brett shakes his head as Allison says, “No thanks.” But Isaac lifts two fingers in affirmation and Liam’s silence is more than enough of an answer.

“I’m headed out in a few.” Allison announces and Brett’s stunned, mostly by how Isaac and Lydia seem to accept the news without so much as batting an eye.

“Why?” He demands, looking around the table.

“To hunt?” She looks at him with concern. “Are you alright?”

“Isn’t there plenty of food here?”

“Yeah. We eat it.” She speaks, slowly. “There’s been three of us. Now there’s five. It takes a lot of food to keep this many fed and the two of you are pretty obviously malnourished, so getting as much raw protein is a pretty big deal if you want to survive the winter.”

Lydia returns and places two bowls down in front of the other boys. Liam doesn’t touch his though – his eyes focused on their conversation.

Brett doesn’t know what to say. He hadn’t expected to leave the loft very often upon arrival – outside of his promise to help Liam get some exercise. That was the whole point of the loft in the first place; to get all the students to a place where they’d be safe from the apocalypse, the biters, and the people who want to kill them.

But he’s not much of planner when it comes to food supplies. For months he’s been scrounging on a weekly basis – or whenever he runs out – but he’s also only had to take care of himself and then, just recently, Liam.

“You go alone?” He questions, knowing that Allison isn’t a girl whose mind he can change.  _She’s right anyway . . . Liam does eat a lot._

“Always.” She nods, “Isaac and Lydia need to protect each other. They don’t know how to hunt anyway, but sometimes Isaac will scout for supplies if I need a rest.”

“Damn good at it too.” Isaac boasts. “Found a whole bunch of pain killers last time.”

“Not anymore.” Brett ignores him. “There’s five of us now. I can go with you.”

Liam makes a sound of protest, but Brett doesn’t look at him.  _If anything happens to Allison out there on her own . . ._

“You don’t know how to hunt.”

“Teach me.”

Allison gives him a long look, before shaking her head. “You’re all wrong for it. Too big. He’d be more suited.” She nods at Liam. “Sma-, I mean compact?” She laughs at the indignant expression on his face. “You’ve got good instincts too. I could tell that the first time I saw you.”

“No.” Brett shakes his head, but catches the look of resentment out of the corner of his eye.  _You can’t baby him. If he’s your equal then you need to treat him like it._  “Not right now.” He compromises, looking to Liam with understanding. “Not until his arm’s healed up and he can watch your back.”

Allison nods, seemingly neutral.

“Fine, but I’m leaving soon. If you’re coming with, you’d better put some clothes on.” She eyes his naked torso. “It’s a nice view and all, but that’s not much for protection.”

He gets to his feet, but Liam’s looking at him – obviously holding something back – with his spoon hanging out of his mouth.

“Can we have a few?” He asks Allison, who seems a little inconvenienced, but she nods after looking at Liam.

_If this whole zombie apocalypse thing doesn’t work out, he’d make a great hostage negotiator. Just give people those big blue puppy eyes and manipulate them into surrendering._

“Fifteen minutes.” She says. One more glance at Liam. “Twenty tops.”

“C’mon, Li.” Brett holds out his hand and Liam hurries up to take it, throwing a nervous glance back at the table.

“Don’t worry, mate.” Isaac reaches across the table to snag Liam’s bowl. “I’ll finish yours for you.”

Liam’s stomach gives an angry rumble, but he lets Brett lead him out of the room anyway.

“Just as nice going as it is coming.” Lydia murmurs, not even trying to hide her ogling. “Oh come on, Isaac! Even you have to appreciate that!”

Brett grins to himself and shakes his head. He’s forgotten how much he likes having Lydia around; always whispering and gossiping to Allison or Cora, but never about anything nasty.  _Is there such a thing as motivational gossip?_

“She thinks you’re cute.” Liam mutters after shutting the door to his –  _our_  – room.

Brett chuckles and takes a seat on the bed, “She’s my friend, don’t be jealous. Besides,” He arches a brow, “She thinks you’re cuter.”

Liam blushes and collapses on the bed next to him, burying his head into the disheveled sheets. “I like her.”

“That’s good.” Brett rests a hand on the back of one of Liam’s denim-clad thigh, while lying beside him. “They’ve all accepted you, you know.”

“I know.” Liam acknowledges. “It’s weird.”

“It’s not supposed to be.” He rubs up Liam’s leg and casually – or tries for casual anyway – lets his hand halt over the curve of his ass. “Friends are supposed to care about you.”

Liam rolls his head to look Brett in the eyes. “You’re not giving me a pep talk while you’re trying to feel me up.”

Brett laughs and kisses the tip of Liam’s nose.

“I’m only trying to help.”

“Don’t need any help.” Liam mutters, but there’s no venom in his voice.

“So you don’t want me to teach you how to shave?” Brett questions, giving him a conceding look. “Alright, suit yourself.”

“Shut up.” Liam shoves his shoulder.

“Want me to show you before I go?”

Liam looks at him in confusion, “Allison said fifteen minutes.”

“I think you’re seriously overestimating the amount of time it’s going to take you to shave off the peach fuzz.” Brett gives the whiskers beneath his chin a tug.

“Fuck you.” Liam swings but Brett catches his fist, lowers it, and kisses the top of his hand.

“C’mon. It’ll only take a minute.” He pulls the defiant teen to his feet and sends him on his way to the bathroom, while he makes a quick stop in his old room to grab his razor. “So, I figure we can just share for now.” He says, entering the bathroom to find Liam sitting on the counter. “It’s not like you’ll need to shave that often anyway and I’m sure I can pick up another razor somewhere when you do.”

Liam doesn’t answer in words, instead letting out a grumbling sound.

Brett retrieves the shaving cream from the bathroom closet and throws a towel around Liam’s shoulders to keep him from making a mess of his shirt, while pulling the younger boy off the counter and having him stand in front of the mirror.

“Alright,” He says, stepping up behind Liam and wrapping one arm across his chest. He kisses the side of his head. “So first you’ve gotta wet your face and the razor.” He presses the razor into Liam’s hand and turns the faucet on, watching as the younger boy dips it under water. Brett reaches over and fills his cupped hands with some water, splashing it onto Liam’s cheeks and dodging the elbow that’s thrown at him.

“Jerk.” Liam’s smiling though. “Got water up my nose.”

“Just trying to help, remember?” Brett picks up the can and squirts a small amount of gel into his hands. He lathers them up, before spreading the white foam over Liam’s cheeks, jaw, and under his chin. He uses way more than necessary considering Liam’s smooth across most of his face, but he wants to show him how to shave properly. Not to mention that it’s probably not the most empowering thing to have to only shave small sections of your face.

“I’m pretty sure I can figure it out.” Liam says impudently, raising the razor to his face.

Brett’s hand catches his before he can start. “Apparently you can’t unless you want razor burn.” He threads his fingers through Liam’s and – sharing control of the razor – guides it to his face. “Always shave with the grain at first. You can go over against it afterwards if you want a close shave, but you’re going to seriously fuck up your skin if you always shave against.”

Liam’s blush is almost entirely covered by the shaving cream, but Brett still knows it’s there by the irritated muttering.

He leads, but slowly let’s Liam take more and more control as he passes the razor along his cheeks – mostly sliding over bare skin. The wispy hairs are washed down the drain within a minute and Brett kisses the slippery side of Liam’s cheek.

“Feel better?” He asks, knowing that Liam was a little self-conscious about the hair.

“Yeah.” Liam’s staring at himself in the mirror, rubbing a hand along his now smooth(er) face. “I don’t really look different.”

“Once it starts to grow in more you’ll notice a huge difference when you shave.” He uses the towel to wipe away the remnants of shaving cream from Liam’s face.

“I know.” Liam looks at him in the mirror. “You look like an old man.”

Brett laughs and rubs a hand across the prickly stubble along his jaw. “I’ll shave tonight, before bed.” He winks at Liam in the reflection. “Be good as new for you.”

Liam smiles, but shoves him away. “Get dressed, before she leaves you behind.”

“We’ve still got time.” Brett kisses at Liam’s neck, trying to pull him closer. “Let me fix your arm before I go.”

Liam acquiesces and follows him back to their room, while Brett makes a quick detour to the other room to gather his things – including Liam’s bandages. When he enters their room Liam’s seated on the floor.

“Comfy down there?” He asks, setting his armload down on the dresser.

Liam just shrugs and holds out his arm. Brett kneels down by his side – which is a lot harder for someone of his height and discards the old bandage, so that he can clean his arm. Liam doesn’t make a sound throughout the process.

“Stitches will be ready to come out in a week, maybe less.” Brett murmurs as he secures the fresh bandage.

“Is it gonna hurt?”

“No.” Brett squeezes his arm. “It might feel a little weird, but it shouldn’t hurt. You never have stitches before?”

“Nope.” Liam watches him pull on a shirt. “A few cracked ribs, plenty of concussions, a fractured collarbone, and a broken arm.” He says it without much emotion, but Brett can see there’s something guarded in his eyes.

_His father._  Liam’s never really told him much about his father, but he’s gotten enough hints to know that the man had abused him . . . but this is the most Liam’s ever actually given him as to the extent that he’d been hurt and Brett has to force himself to remain cool.

He glances at Liam’s face, trying not to be too obvious.  _How the fuck could anyone want to hurt him?_  He’s angry at the thought of it, but he keeps his composure.  _It doesn’t matter now. I won’t let anyone do it again._

“You ready?” Liam asks him after he’s finished dressing and attached the machete to his hip.

“Yeah.” Brett crosses the distance between them and pulls Liam to his feet. He leans down to kiss his lips roughly, his teeth nipping at Liam’s bottom lip and making the younger boy groan into his mouth. “Not sure I still want to though.”

“I’m good with you staying.” Liam jokes, but Brett can see the worry in his eyes.  _We haven’t really been separated since we met, not for longer than an hour or two anyway._  “Be careful.” The desperation in Liam’s voice almost breaks Brett, but he knows he can’t let Liam see anything but complete confidence.  _Please don’t worry about me._

Brett’s not so sure of himself though. He’s always cautious when venturing out, but there’s something about being without Liam that’s making him a little more nervous than usual.  _I’ll be with Allison,_  he tells himself,  _she’s probably the most capable person I’ve ever known. We’ll be fine . . . and if not, well, Isaac and Lydia won’t let anything happen to him._

He ignores the dark thought and kisses Liam’s forehead. “I’ll be safe, promise.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” Liam coughs, giving Brett a resigned smile. “Just do your best to get back here without any bite marks.”

“I’ll try.” Brett nods, taking Liam’s hand as the two of them make their way back into the kitchen.

“Much better.” Allison glances at their joined hands. “We shouldn’t be too long. Definitely back before nightfall.”

“You said that last time.” Isaac points out, looking anxious.  _He’s worried about her._ The realization shouldn’t be so surprising considering they are dating, but Isaac’s usually pretty indifferent about things.  _He’ll take care of Liam._

“Last time she had to carry that doe back all alone.” Lydia reasons, bringing Allison a jacket and helping her into it. “And now she’s got a big strong man to help out.”

“Just be careful.” Isaac cautions.

“Always.” Allison turns to kiss Lydia, but doesn’t linger. She repeats the action with Isaac.

Brett looks down at Liam, then to Lydia and Isaac.

“Lydia-”

“He’ll be fine.” She holds up a hand to stop him. “Worry about getting yourself back here in one piece for him, okay?”

He nods. “Of course.”

“Alright then. Well?” She says, expectantly. “You’re wasting daylight, kiss him already.”

Brett smiles at Liam’s red face, but steps close to him and tilts his chin up, nonetheless. Liam’s hesitant about the public display, but Brett kisses him long and deep, only breaking away when Isaac lets out a low whistle.

“Damn near swallowed his tongue, did you?”

“Isaac.” Allison chastises, but Brett can see them all trying not to laugh.

* * *

“Let’s go.” Brett says, giving Liam’s hand a final squeeze.

Brett’s been following Allison for a few hours now, keeping a healthy distance so that he won’t alert any wildlife to her position, but so far they haven’t seen anything bigger than the squirrels.  _Not even any biters._

His eyes follow Allison’s smooth movements and he strains his ears to hear her make any sound at all, but there’s nothing. It blows his mind how she moves so silently – and if there’s one talent he’d love to have in the apocalypse it might just be that.

Still _. . . she looks tired._  He hadn’t noticed before; which he’s chalking up to her hiding it in front of Isaac and Lydia.

It’s not that she’s sluggish or doing anything strange really, in fact she seems particularly alert. Yet there’s something about the way her shoulders are set that makes him wonder how much she’s had to deal with to keep the others safe.

_Maybe tired isn’t the right word. Worn out? Weary?_  His train of thought is lost when she glances back and waves him closer.

_I’ll do my best to take some of that weight off of her shoulders,_  he vows.

“I don’t think we’re going to find anything in the neighborhood.” She sounds irritated. “We’ll have to head north.”

“Sounds good.” He looks around, taking in how beautiful Cambridge is. It’s strange that the massive sprawl of downtown Boston is only a few miles away, but its skyline is prominent to the southeast, looming over the upscale suburb.

“Walk with me for now, at least until we get out of the city. There isn’t much danger in you scaring off my quarry when there’s nothing around in the first place.”

Brett catches up to her gait easily, his long legs matching her abrupt pace.

“So how’re things between the three of you?” He asks after they’ve gone an entire block in silence.

“Good.” She says, offhandedly, checking her corners. “Really good, actually. Best thing to come out of all of this.”

“I know what you mean.” Brett pictures Liam’s scowl and can’t help but smile.

“He’s attached to you.” Allison notes. “Looks at you like you’re the only thing he’s got.”

Brett shrugs. “I kind of am, I guess. You’re all treating him like family though . . . thanks for that. He needs friends.”

“It’s the least we can do. You and Cora are the only reasons we’re all still alive in the first place.”

“I didn’t do much.” He shrugs, “Just followed her lead.”

“We all did.” Allison’s voice is far off.

Brett doesn’t know what to say; they haven’t had a chance to talk about Cora in depth yet and he’s really hoping that that time isn’t now.

Not that he never wants to talk about it with anyone, but maybe discussing the loss of his girlfriend through a traumatic event isn’t the best idea while out in the open where the threat of biters and other people is an immediate and present danger.

“Liam’s a good kid.” Allison catches him off guard after a few moments.

_Is it that obvious I don’t want to talk about Cora?_

“Not a kid.” He mumbles the correction without malice.

“Sorry.” She says, matching his lack of malice with her lack of conviction, but there’s a note of understanding in her even tone. “He has good instincts . . .”

“But?” Brett prods, knowing that she’s trying to go somewhere with this.

“But he’s completely reliant on you.” She sighs, “Which means you need to keep yourself alive.”

He eyes her, warily. “I’ve survived this long, Ally, I don’t really have any plans on dying. Why all the concern over him? Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate it, but what’s going on?”

She runs a hand through her dark hair and appears as if she’s trying to organize her thoughts.

“None of them . . .” She pauses to search for the right words, so Brett waits patiently, busying himself with checking out their surroundings for anything edible – or anything that might want to eat them. “They’re not ready if something happens to me.”

“This has been eating at you?” He can see it now; the strain of her muscles and weight on her shoulders is in large part due to the stress of being the only provider for her group.  _Not anymore._

She gives a dry smile. “I tried to teach Isaac to hunt . . . it went about as well as expected. I’m afraid to even let Lydia try.” She gives a shake of her head and loses the smile. “There’s no chance for them to be safe, not without me.”

“None of us are ever safe. You know that.”

“It’s relative.” She sounds irritated. “They’d be safer with someone to take care of them.”

“I would never let anything happen to them.” He tries to get her to meet his eyes, but she’s got her gaze locked on the pavement ahead of them. “I won’t let anything happen to you either, for the record.”

“We don’t get a choice.” Her tone is sharp, snapping at him like a cracked whip. “No one plans on dying and yet most of us are dead. We all need to be prepared for whatever  _might_  come. Someone needs to be able to take over for me in case anything happens.”

“That’s why you want to teach Liam. To hunt.” He discerns – already having figured that out. He takes a deep breath and scratches his chin. “It’s a good idea.” Her surprise is as clear as the jolt that runs through her body. “You’re not dying, but you’re right. Being prepared isn’t going to hurt us.”

“You’ll let me teach him?” The bitterness is gone without a trace.

“I already agreed to it, before.”

“That was in front of him.” She raises an eyebrow. “I thought you might just be trying to pacify him for a while.”

“I don’t own him, Allison.” He mutters. “He can make his own decisions.” He’s partly talking to himself; trying to reinforce his newly found realization that Liam’s not a child.  _That he’s capable of deciding things on his own. Without my approval._

“It’s dangerous . . .” She stops, changing directions mid-thought. “I’ll keep him safe.”

“I appreciate it.” He gives a short pessimistic laugh.  _Thanks for keeping the teenager I’ve been making out with safe from the reanimated human corpses._  “I can go scouting with Isaac. Make sure he doesn’t get his dumbass munched on; repay the favor.”

“Thanks.”

“I mean it. You look like shit, Ally.” He declares, without any reservation. “Liam needs to get out sometimes anyway if we don’t want him to go stir crazy. We’ll both do whatever we can to lighten the load.”

She nods, taking him at his word this time.

And they leave it at that.

The city’s quiet around them – unusually so. There’s not even any biters out, but Brett’s chalking that up to the disease wiping out most of the population, with relatively few being turned by it. He’s not sure on the logistics of the whole thing,  _but no one really is, I guess._

The hundreds of bodies corralled near the river probably keep a lot of people away, but he can’t imagine that no one comes through here while trying to escape from the city.  _There’s still a decent number of scavengers in Boston, there should be even more in the outskirts; other survivors trying to scrape by without leaving their homes._

“Things are quiet here.” He says, hoping that Allison will have some insight.

“They are.” She confirms.

“You don’t think that’s weird?”

“I try not to think about things that don’t matter.” She picks up the pace a bit, forcing Brett to do the same. “Not many people anywhere. I’m not upset that the ones that are still around are somewhere else.”

_Allison and Liam are going to be a great team. Two rays of optimistic sunshine lighting up the town._

“You haven’t had any trouble with those guys?” He prods, trying to get her to open up a bit. “The ones from Fenway?”

“No.” Her lie is blatant. Even she realizes it and stops moving, rounding on Brett with a solemn expression. “I need to tell you something.”

“That can’t be good.” He keeps his cool, ready for her to spill whatever she’s been holding inside.

“It’s . . . god, I don’t even know how to say it. I don’t even know it was real, but shit, Brett, it was . . . something bad is happening.”

“Just tell me, Ally. Whatever it is, you don’t need to deal with it alone.”

He can tell that she’s torn on the inside; fighting a brutal civil war over keeping her secrets or sharing them.  _Just trust me, Ally. For fuck’s sake we can’t afford to keep secrets from each other._

“There’s things out here.” She shakes her head and tries again. “Biters, that aren’t like other biters.”  _Oh, shit._  “I’m being serious, don’t look at me like that. There’s something wrong with them.”

“Allison.” He grabs her shoulder, trying to stop her. “I know. We ran into one the other day; a roided up biter with two faces?”

“You what? And you survived?” Her shock at his belief – and personal experience – is clear. “The first one I saw nearly ripped my head off. I didn’t let the second get close enough to try.”

“Liam.” Brett explains. “He saved my ass for the thousandth time. We didn’t know what it was, but it kept going even after I cut its head off.”

She nods, looking almost enthusiastic that she’s able to talk to someone with firsthand experience.

“So you know about the other heads? The first one; it had three.”

“You think Fenway has something to do with it too.” He observes. He didn’t really discuss it with Liam at the time, but he isn’t one hundred percent sure anyway.  _Those guys could have just been scavengers, I guess._ His intuition shakes its head at him, disappointedly.  _Alright, definitely Fenway._

“Some of them came by to collect the body after I’d dropped it.” She confirms, drawing a line down her neck with her finger. “Scars and everything.”

“You saw them take it?” She nods. “Did you hear why?”

“Didn’t stick around that long.” She says and he can’t really blame her.  _I wouldn’t have stayed near that thing even if there hadn’t been a herd of hungry biters closing in around us._  “They looked terrified, but not of the biter.”

He rethinks the words of the two men.  _Someone’s in charge of them and whoever that is, they want these mutated biters alive._

“After Liam killed it, we almost ran into a couple of guys. They were talking about the thing like they were trying to capture it alive.”

“I’m pretty sure they’re about a year too late for that.” She mumbles, but Brett ignores the comment.

“Did you tell them?”

“Which part?” She asks, dryly. “The part about the crazy superhuman biters or the part about the psychos who want to play tag with them?”

“Either.” He shrugs.

“No.” She affects an air of confidence, pulling her shoulders back. “I’m not going to either. There’s no use in worrying them when we don’t know what’s going on.”

“We know that there’s super zombies that are connected to those pricks inside of Fenway.” He argues. “You don’t think they deserve to know that?”

“No. I don’t.”

His mouth opens, then shuts.  _They’re hers to protect and that’s what she’s trying to do. I sure as fuck disagree with her, but it’s not my place to do anything about it._  He feels uneasy about that, but he knows that there’s not much he can do.  _If I told them it’d only cause more problems._

“Alright . . . I won’t say anything.” He swears. The words feel dirty in his mouth. “I promise, Ally. You can trust me.”

This time her prolonged silence isn’t unexpected and he waits patiently for her to answer him.

“Thanks. For everything.”

“Don’t sweat it.” Brett tries for a smile as he waves off her concern. “Liam and I can handle it. I’ll tell him to keep quiet about the biters and you can teach him how to hunt.” He punts an empty can through the broken window of a storefront, before continuing. “You can keep your secrets from them – protect them from it if you need to – but you’ve got to trust me.”

“I do.” She sighs. “I’m trying anyway. I don’t really have much of a choice, do I?” Her self-deprecating smile forces sympathy into his chest.

“Alright then.” Brett nods. “I still think you should tell them about the mutants at least, but it’s your call. We’ll back you up, either way. Just . . . be careful.” He’s trying not to push her boundaries, but he feels like he needs to at least make his opposition to the secret as clear as possible.

She gives him a look of understanding. She’s agreeing to those terms and suddenly Brett feels much older than his twenty-one years.  _Is that what it’s like to make decisions for other people? Shit. If this is the feeling she’s had to live with while protecting Isaac and Lydia, then I can’t blame her for being wound-up._

He thinks of Cora and wonders about what decisions she’d made for the survival of their group and subsequently hid from them. It’s too easy to picture Cora taking someone’s life in order to save one of them and that makes Brett’s stomach turn.

_Whatever she did, she did to protect us. Just like Allison’s doing to protect them . . . like I should do to protect Liam?_

_No._

At any rate, he’s thankful – immensely so – that Liam forced him to put Cora to rest, rather than let her be taken by Fenway; seeing as it’s pretty certain at this point that their corralling of the biters is definitely related to the mutants.

_I’ll do something nice for him when we get back._

The city around them grows steadily less dense until the uniform blocks of houses give way to large expanses of open pastures and the manicured trees evenly spaced along the sidewalk thicken and grow less regular until they manifest as a forest, looming in the distance.

“Hold up.” Allison places a hand on his chest.

He immediately comes to a halt. There’s nothing notable that he can see, but Allison’s crouching down and examining the dirt beside the road.

“Keep quiet and follow me.” She’s off before he has a chance to ask what she’s found, heading into the tall grass.

He can barely keep up with her as she navigates a winding path through the waist-high grass and into the outskirts of the forest.

One second he’s got his eyes on her, then he blinks and she’s gone.

“Allison?” He calls loudly, out of panic.

“Shut up!” She hisses from the ground a few yards ahead, where she’s dropped to cover around the side of an aged tree. “Damn it, Brett!” He feels stupid as he notices the doe, before it quickly vanishes into the thicker brush of the woods.

“Sorry.” He says lamely, watching Allison lower her bow and slip an arrow back into her quiver.

Allison’s clearly frustrated, but she shrugs it off and climbs to her feet. She gestures for him to follow her as she sets out, deeper into the forest.

“Don’t worry about it. That would have been too easy anyway.”

He trails a little further behind her as they move through the trees, mostly out of courtesy – partly out of not wanting to scare off dinner.

Brett keeps an eye on the sun as the time ticks by and there’s no sign of the deer or any other animal big enough to feed them.  _We’ll need to start back sometime soon if we don’t want to get stuck outside at night._

“We should get back soon.” He suggests lightly.

“Afraid of the dark?” She teases while keeping her attention focused on her search for animal tracks.

“Yeah.” He huffs, indignantly. “You kidding me? The amount of creepy things crawling around in daylight is terrifying.”

“You’ve got a point there.” But she doesn’t show any signs of giving up on her hunt.

He holds his tongue and continues to follow her; after a while he’s certain that he’d have no idea how to get out on his own anyway. That’s when he notices the knife at her belt.

“Where’d you get that?” He asks, meeting her questioning stare with one of his own. He nods at her waist.

Her fingers find the grip of the U.S. Army Ranger-issue knife and she squeezes it, thoughtfully. “Stole it off a recruiter.”

Brett furrows his brow at her.  _Stole it off a military recruiter?_

“You wanna elaborate on that one?”

“If you need me to.” Her words come carefully. She waits a few seconds, but he makes no move to stop her, so she carries on. “Some stiff old guy in a uniform came through the area a few months back. I ran into him while looking for pain killers and he said he was conscripting me into  _‘Lieutenant-Colonel Monroe’s Battalion. The front line defenders and last hope of our glorious Republic’_.” She rolls her eyes and drops the momentarily crafted southern accent. “Can you believe that?”

He can, actually. The president – the actual president – didn’t live long enough to consolidate U.S. military strength around D.C. and after his death the generals, governors, senators, and “presidents” all turned on each other. The resulting wars needed bodies to fight in them and that’s where the looming threat of military conscription arose.

What he doesn’t believe is that she stole it off of him and then he returned home, without incident. There isn’t a respectable post-apocalyptic military outfit that would accept ‘no’ as a response to a martial order.

“No.” He shakes his head, watching her with caution. “Sounds like a prick.”

She notices his scrutiny, but doesn’t acknowledge it.  _She’s hiding something. Allison . . ._

“So he just handed it over when you refused?” He asks, unable to keep himself from the line of questioning.

“What do you want me to say?” Allison demands. “You know what happened. I didn’t have a choice.”

He keeps his mouth clamped shut, but his mind is racing a mile a minute.  _She killed him._ It’s the confirmation that he didn’t really even need _, but hearing her say it . . ._

“Did he try to hurt you?” Brett asks, jaw clenched tight.

“Do you want me to lie to you?” Her tone is eerily flat, but he can see the stress in her brow. “Look, even if we parted ways with smiles and promises to call – he’d have come back. You know they don’t take no as an answer; he’d have come back with others and they’d have dragged Lydia and Isaac away and stuck them in uniforms.”

Brett doesn’t know what to say.  _He didn’t try to hurt her. She didn’t only kill him, she murdered him. She’s right though,_ he argues with himself,  _if she hadn’t of done it then he would have returned with a larger group and not given her a choice._

_Fear doesn’t excuse acts of violence,_  Satomi’s voice rings through his head.  _You cannot lash out at others because of your own worries or concerns._

“You gonna say something?” She folds her arms – self-consciously – but the annoyed glare is still prominent on her pale face.

“I don’t know what to say.” He admits.  _Murder isn’t something you can come back from. The snuffing out of a human life . . . it’s not good karma._

“He wasn’t an innocent.” She growls in an attempt to justify her crime, but there’s regret in her eyes. “My whole family was military – my aunt used to tell me about the horrible things she’s seen her friends do to other people and that was before the dead rose and the world gave up on human rights.”

Brett wants to agree with her and move on, but Satomi’s sage voice continues to lecture him:  _never take punishment into your own hands, it’s not for you to decide._

“Brett, I swear to god, you can’t have a meltdown over this.” She steps close to him and clasps his shoulder, leveling her eyes with his, understandingly. His first instinct is to flinch away from her, but he doesn’t.  _Allison’s my friend._  “I need you, remember? We need to make the hard choices to protect them. Just think about Liam. You’d have done the same for him, wouldn’t you?”

_No._  The thought’s immediate and certain. He’s not sure what he’d do in a situation like that, but it wouldn’t have included killing someone who wasn’t an immediate threat.

“We protect those who cannot protect themselves.” She says firmly, overlooking his lack of response.

“Do they know?” Brett chokes.

“They don’t.” She responds neutrally.

“Allison . . .” He shakes his head, but grabs her hand at his shoulder and squeezes it. “I’m sorry.” His voice almost cracks, but he keeps his gaze steady.  _I’m sorry for not getting here sooner. I’m sorry for leaving you to carry all of this weight, to bear this burden on your own. I’m sorry for not being strong like you. For not protecting Cora._

“Thanks.” She says, releasing his shoulder, but holding his hands for a few lingering seconds. “I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you too.” He admits, not knowing what to do with his body.  _Should I hug her?_

Suddenly Allison turns and drops to one knee with striking efficiency. Brett recoils backwards – completely caught off guard – as she nocks an arrow and lets it fly loose an instant later, sailing through the trees.

There’s a loud crash, but no other sound.

“Looks like we’ve got dinner.” She smiles at him and he grins back; the tension completely forgotten over their mutual salivation at the concept of dinner.

“Let’s get it home.” Brett helps her up. “Liam’s going to be cranky that he didn’t get his 10 square meals.”

* * *

Isaac whistles as they walk through the door, pulling his feet off the coffee table and hurrying over to help Brett with the beast.

“Caught us a big one, aye?” He takes half the buck’s weight and the two carry it into the kitchen where they deposit it onto the island counter.

Isaac pulls him into an unexpected hug, clapping him on the back. “You had us all worried, mate.” He releases him, but keeps a hand on the back of his neck. “You’re boy’s been jumpy all day. Look at him.” They both smile at Liam, who’s seated next to Lydia on the couch, watching them with an undecipherable expression.

“C’mere.” He murmurs as he crosses back through the room to draw Liam up to his feet. He’s surprised by how quickly Liam rises and presses their lips together, fisting a hand into the back of Brett’s hair.

“That’s my boy.” Lydia’s voice chimes from beside them, but Liam doesn’t break the kiss for a few more seconds – his tongue busy roaming Brett’s mouth.

“I think I’m going to be going out more.” Brett jokes when Liam finally does pull off, settling his hands on the younger boy’s hips.

“Wish I got a welcome home like that when I went out.” Isaac mutters, crashing onto the couch where Allison’s taken up residence and resting his curly mop in her lap.

“Don’t complain to me. I just brought home dinner.” She removes her gloves and runs her fingers through his curls.

Liam’s stomach rumbles, causing them all to erupt into laughter.

“Sit.” Brett pushes Liam back onto the couch, ignoring the short boy’s red face. “We’ll go get dinner ready soon.” He eyes the sinking sun outside the large windows.  _We made pretty good time._

“How soon?” Liam asks earnestly.

“I’ll start skinning it once my legs stop screaming at me.” Allison kicks her feet up on the table. “Can you wait till then?”

“Yeah.” Liam mumbles as Brett takes a seat beside him and throws and arm around his shoulders. He tugs the boy as close as he can, letting his warmth soak into him and force the chill from his bones.

“What’d you guys do today?” He asks.

“I showed the little one how to use an axe.” Isaac lifts his head and winks at Liam’s irritation over being  _‘the little one’_. “Taught him how to fight proper.”

“Babe, you can’t teach what you don’t know.” Allison teases, tangling her fingers in his hair.

“Well, while these two were on the roof playing,” Lydia starts, curling up against Liam’s side and resting her head on his ribs. Brett’s amazed at how Liam smiles and shimmies closer to her touch.  _Maybe I should be the jealous one?_  “I made lunch and finished reading A Tale of Two Cities.”

“How was it?” Allison asks.

“Loved it.” She smiles. “You were right, it was beautiful. I’m not even a Dicken’s fan.” She informs Brett.

Brett kisses the top of Liam’s head and slides a hand down his back, relieved to have him back in his arms again.  _It’s going to be hell when he’s the one who’s leaving with Allison to hunt._

“By the way, mate,” Isaac looks up at Brett, “Next time you change his bandage, you might want to spend a little more than twenty seconds on it.” Brett notices that Liam’s arm has been re-bandaged. “The damned thing’s been falling off of him all day.”

_Liam’s getting used to it here,_  he looks on approvingly as Liam grins at Isaac, apparently sharing some inside joke.  _He likes both of them._  His eyes move to Lydia, resting her red head on Liam, using him like a bad-tempered pillow.

“Brett.” Lydia’s hand reaches up to find his, something Liam doesn’t fail to notice – he shifts closer to Brett, turning his nose against his chest. “I’m so glad you’re back. These two haven’t shut up about their weird tastes in music all day and I just need someone to sing Bad Blood with me.”

“Alright, I got you.” Brett laughs, twining his fingers through hers, while giving Liam’s side a gentle squeeze.

Somehow they end up reminiscing about how shitty school had been before the apocalypse.

“Well, not all of us can get full-rides.” Isaac bites at Lydia, who looks extremely proud of her academic achievements. “Some people have to try and get hit by cars if we want an education.”

“Okay, but you didn’t try to get hit by that car.” Allison looks like she might die of laughter. “You literally jumped onto the hood while it was stopped.”

“Poor guy.” Brett recalls the completely bewildered man, who’d rushed out to help Isaac up as he complained of his back. “You’re lucky he didn’t kick your ass.”

“Aye and he’s lucky I didn’t press charges.” Isaac’s flashes a roguish smile. “I’ve still got a bad back.”

“That’s probably from me kicking your ass earlier.” Liam boasts with a cocky grin.

“You wish!” Isaac sits up, pulling away from Allison. “You knocked me over once!” He seems intent on defending his honor in front of the girls. “And you never would’ve gotten that far if you weren’t so little.”

“Put them away boys.” Brett chuckles, reaching out to cup Liam’s jaw. He kisses the younger boy softly. “I missed you.”

Liam turns red.  _So he can chew on my tongue when I walk through the door, but I can’t give him a peck on the lips. I’m starting to think the terms of this . . . relationship? – are a little uneven._

“That was gay.” Isaac notes, giggling and dodging Allison’s hand.

“And super cute.” Lydia tilts her head.

“Alright.” Allison shakes her head and gets to her feet. “I’m gonna go get dinner started. Want to help me?” She asks Lydia – who agrees and untangles herself from Liam.

_Guess I’m fired,_  Brett thinks as the girls leave the room and Allison doesn’t ask him for his help. Once in the kitchen he sees Allison round on Lydia and press her up against the refrigerator.  _Ah . . . never mind._

“Fine!” Isaac hollers, stretching out on the couch. “Leave me the both of you. Me and the mates will be fine on our own, won’t we lads? We’ll spend some quality guy time together.” He pauses. “Not like that.”

The girls’ laughter echoes from the kitchen and Isaac turns a little pink.

Brett glances down at Liam – he’s laughing, genuinely and without reservation.  _It’s good to see him like this._  He can see it in Liam’s eyes that he’s not all that certain that this will last, but it’s good to see him enjoying it.  _I’ll make him believe it. I’ll make him believe that it’s okay to get used to this, that he doesn’t need to be afraid of finding a home . . . then I’ll do what it takes to make sure that we don’t lose it._

His thoughts drift to Allison, of what she’s done to protect this . . .

_I won’t murder._  The thought is resolute, leaving no room for maneuvering.  _I won’t take a life, unless there’s an immediate danger to one of them –_ the image of Liam held at gunpoint makes an unwelcome appearance in his thoughts and he stiffens.

Liam notices and lifts his head to look at him. “You okay?” He asks.

“I’m fine, sorry.” He touches Liam’s cheek and looks into his amazingly blue eyes. “Just a cramp.”

Liam nods and rests his head back on Brett’s chest, carrying on with an argument about some stupid band with Isaac.

_I’ll keep him safe, but I’ll do it my way. No one needs to die._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope no one minded cock-blocking Isaac in the beginning haha, I still love him.
> 
> Let me know what you guys think! I think this chapter turned out better than I'd thought it would, but I'm more excited for the next few. Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks especially to red_to_black for the writer's block sympathy <3


	13. This Manic Animal

**Brett’s POV**

Liam’s still sleeping when Brett enters their room, with a towel tied around his waist and his hair still damp from the shower.

The younger boy’s spread out across the majority of the bed, somehow stretching his small body to take up the entire thing. It’d been the constant knees in his back actually, that had woken Brett up and convinced him to grab a shower before trying to get Liam up.

His typically soft snoring is louder this morning, probably because his head is tilted over the edge of the mattress and his mouth is hanging open.

_How did I get so lucky?_  He smirks at Liam’s disheveled hair, sticking out at odd angles.  _More importantly, why do I think this drooling, snoring, mess of a teenager is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen?_

Brett takes a seat on the bed, finding a place near Liam’s hip and soothingly rubbing his hand over the younger boy’s bare stomach.  _He’s getting more comfortable every day,_  he notes. It’s been over two weeks since they arrived in Cambridge and Liam had ceased wearing anything but his boxers when he sleeps.

“Morning.” Liam yawns, squinting against the bright morning light and throwing an arm over his eyes. “We should buy some curtains.”

“Add it to the shopping list.” Brett laughs, pinching Liam’s side.

“Is there a reason you’re naked?” Liam peeks out from under his arm.

“Not really.” Brett shrugs, running a hand through his hair and shaking out some droplets of water. “You mind it?”

“Not really.” Liam echoes with a roguish grin.

“Yeah?” Brett doesn’t fail to notice the suggestion in Liam’s smile and his interest is immediately piqued. He slowly climbs over Liam, placing his hands on either side of his head. “I’m gonna be honest, I’m a little disappointed you wouldn’t wake up earlier. I was hoping to get that shower together that we missed.”

Liam’s hands grip his hips almost bruisingly tight, but he’s not complaining.

“Sorry that freezing my ass of doesn’t sound as good as staying in bed.” Liam forces Brett’s hips down on top of his own.

“I’d have kept you warm.” Brett smiles as Liam tilts his head up to kiss him. Their lips meet and Brett seizes the opportunity to slip his tongue into Liam’s mouth.

Liam’s hips press up into his own.  _Nice to know that I can always wake him up this way if necessary._  Brett grinds downwards, responding in kind to Liam’s advances.

“B.” The single syllable falls from Liam’s lips and Brett’s certain he’s never heard a sound more beautiful.

“What do you want?” He murmurs, mouthing along the younger boy’s jawline.

“You.” Liam whines, unhelpfully.

“I can feel that much.” Brett jokes, grinding downwards to let Liam feel his own arousal. “But I’m gonna need you to be more specific.”

Liam’s starting to turn red under Brett’s contemplative eyes. Brett’s quickly fallen in love with the way his blush spreads down to his chest and even more in love with the way Liam’s wearing less clothing so that he can finally see it.

“We’ve probably only got a few minutes before you-know-who barges in again.” Liam eyes the door, warily.

“Don’t say his name.” Brett chides, “That’s how you summon him.”

Isaac walking in on the two of them has become such a regular occurrence that they’ve never actually . . .  _done anything_  really. Liam got off while grinding against him in his sleep a few nights ago, but that was more embarrassing than anything else. When Brett had woken up as Liam finished against his thigh, he’d tried to clean up without waking Liam – but that wasn’t a success and it took a lot of assurances to convince the younger boy that he wasn’t angry.

_What a vibrant sex life. We should probably slow down before someone gets hurt._

To be fair it isn’t completely Isaac’s fault. Allison and Lydia could each claim to have walked in on them, but it’s mostly exhaustion that’s gotten in the way. Brett spends most afternoons scouting the area for supplies and watching out for biters or other people, while Liam’s started to hunt with Allison.

He always comes back sweaty and tired; usually with just enough time for Brett to pull a blanket over him before he’s out cold and snoring.

“Asshole.” Liam hisses as Brett uses a little too much teeth on his neck.

Brett traps Liam’s arms overhead before he can try to retaliate, giving him a great view of Liam’s body spread out beneath him – including the long scabbed over wound marring the underside of his forearm.

He’d taken the stitches out a few days ago and it’s healed nicely, but he still gets a little uneasy every time he looks at it.  _I don’t like seeing how close he came_  . . . Liam on the other hand seems almost proud of the soon-to-be scar.

He remembers how shocked he’d been when Liam smiled after the stitches were out and he could examine his arm.

_“It’ll be a big scar. Don’t you think?”_

Brett had been forced to collect himself and nod, mumbling an agreement.

“You just gonna stare all day?” Liam’s got a smirk on his chapped lips. He bucks his hips up again, nearly unseating Brett, but he manages to keep his position on top.

“Can’t blame me can you?” Brett leans down to whisper in Liam’s ear. “You’re perfect, just like this, spread out beneath me.” He smiles to himself at the little noise that comes from Liam’s mouth. He’s figured out a few things about the younger boy by now and one is that he likes to be complimented – even if he’ll never admit it. Brett’s more than happy to oblige on that front. “So fucking beautiful, Li.”

Liam’s gone red again, but he stops struggling against Brett’s hold on his arms. The older boy nibbles at his earlobe.

“B.”

_If there’s one thing I’ll never get tired of hearing, that’s gotta be it._

He feels the knot securing his towel loosen against the constant gyration of Liam’s hips; then come free. The towel hangs open and both boys stare down at Brett’s hardened member, between them.

“Woah.” Liam huffs.

“Yeah?” Brett beams, proudly. “You’ve seen it before.”

“Not like this.” Liam’s fingers twitch and Brett urges him on with a nod.

“Go ahead.”

His eyes are completely transfixed on Liam’s hand as the younger boy reaches down and wraps his fingers around Brett.

“Just gonna hold it?” He laughs in Liam’s ear.

“It’s big.” Liam’s voice comes out high and tight.

“Thanks, I guess.” Brett gently bumps their heads together, trying to ease Liam’s nerves.  _If he’s not one hundred percent on this, we’ve still got time to back out._  “Listen, Li, if you-” His words choke off as Liam’s hand strokes him down to the base.

“I’ve just . . . never . . . you know?” Liam explains, while starting to jerk him off with long, slow strokes.

“You sure about that?” Brett huffs, trying to hold his body up and not collapse onto Liam. It’s been months since he’s had the time to get off and Liam’s starting to build up a steady pace. “Doesn’t feel like it.”

Liam smiles at the praise. “Shut up.”

Brett abandons the attempt to hold his head up and drops his forehead against Liam’s, looking down into his blue eyes. Liam’s not looking at him though, completely dedicated to his new task.

“Fuck, Li.” Brett groans as Liam squeezes his cock. He rests his arms on either side of the boy’s head, letting his chest settle against Liam’s and supporting his weight there.

“You’re heavy.” Liam groans, but hooks his free arm around Brett’s back to hold him still.

Brett tries to steady his breathing and not finish in Liam’s hand after a ten second handjob, but that’s getting painfully hard.

Liam’s grip is strong and the practiced movements of his hand are perfectly timed. Brett’s mind fills with images of Liam jerking himself off in dozens of places – both pre and post apocalypse – and fuck if that isn’t almost all he needs to put him over the edge.

Liam’s arm is locked tightly around his back, pressing their chests together tightly; and suddenly Liam becomes the world’s greatest multitasker as he presses a rough kiss to Brett’s lips, forcing his tongue inside the older boy’s mouth.

Brett’s taken by surprise at first, but recovers quickly enough to take control of the kiss from Liam. He grabs Liam by the back of the neck to hold him still while he gradually works their tongues back into the younger boy’s mouth, which is hot and tastes like Liam.  _Like the rest of him, I guess?_

“Almost there.” Brett groans into Liam’s mouth.

Liam breaks the kiss to level Brett with a satisfied smirk and an arched brow. “Already?”

“It’s been a while.” For the first time Brett feels his own face go red at something Liam’s said.  _I’m not liking this role revers- shit, nope, if he keeps doing that with his hand then I guess I don’t mind it much._

“Go ahead.” Liam’s breath is hot against his face, both of his hands clutching at Brett tightly.  _Liam_. At the moment it’s all he can taste, all he can feel and smell, and all he can even think about.  _Liam._  Warm and safe, rough and stubborn and smelling like wet dog.  _Liam, who’s a few inches too short, but makes up for it in pure unfiltered anger. Liam who’s apparently really good with his hands. Liam who’s – holy fuck._

“Fuck.” He grunts, thrusting his hips into Liam’s hand and coming between them.

Liam continues to jerk him off as his hips stutter a few times and he coats the blonde boy’s abdomen. Even then he doesn’t stop his slow ministrations until Brett starts to soften and his breathing steadies.

He’s still out of breath and trying to process how quickly everything happened; when Liam shoves him off to the side and wipes his hand off on Brett’s towel. “Gross.” He mutters, picking the towel up and distastefully wiping at the white liquid on his stomach.

Brett falls back against the soft blankets, which suddenly seem so much more comfortable, and smiles at him lazily.

“That was . . . holy shit.” He reaches over for Liam’s hand.

The younger boy smiles as his eyes rake over Brett’s body, completely bared to him. Brett’s never really been self-conscious and he’s definitely not with Liam, so he doesn’t mind the attention.

“A picture will last longer.” He mumbles, pulling on Liam’s hand and trying to get him to come closer.

Liam’s gaze is tracing his tattoos down – Brett’s noticed he has a fascination with them and he’s hoping to see more of where that goes later on – until he gets to his dick, which is slowly going soft and returning the supply of blood to Brett’s body.

He tries not to flinch when Liam grabs him and gives a tentative squeeze.

“It’s still huge.” Liam’s eyes are glued to his crotch, where he’s rubbing and feeling up like Brett’s an anatomy doll.

“You’re gonna give me a superiority complex.” Brett laughs, eyeing the tent in Liam’s boxers. “Roll onto your back.”

Liam looks at him. “You don’t have to. It’s alright.”

“You fucking kidding me, Li?” Brett presses a kiss to the bottom of his jaw. “I want to.”

“I know . . .” Liam’s got a strange look in his eyes – one of the few that Brett can’t identify. “It’s just weird.”

“It’s not.” Brett assures him, realizing that his sudden hesitation comes from Garrett.  _Garrett used him and pushed him to the side. But I’m not Garrett you moron, when are you going to figure that out?_  “And I want to.”

Liam squirms as he pushes him onto his back and climbs over him again; trying to force the lethargy from his own muscles.

“I want to, Li.” He repeats. “Do you want me to?” He sits back on his knees, between Liam’s spread legs.  _I can definitely get used to the sight of him spread out like this._

“Y-yeah.” Liam’s breathing hitches when Brett’s hands trail along his thighs. “Please.”

Brett leans forward and presses a kiss, high up on Liam’s thigh. He spreads Liam’s legs wider and palms the obvious erection straining against his boxers. It’s warm and solid in his hand, not quite as big as his own, but not small either.  _Bigger than you’d think, judging from his height._

“Shit.” Liam whimpers, pressing upwards into the pressure.

“Like that?” Brett mouths at Liam through his boxers, enjoying the way that it makes him wriggle and writhe – desperate for more. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Shut up.” Liam groans with his head thrown back.

“You don’t want me to tell you how perfect you are?” Brett questions, nosing at Liam’s erection. “How good you taste.” He kisses below Liam’s bellybutton. “How amazing you sound?”

“I think you can find something better to do with your mouth.” Liam grabs onto his hair and pushes him back lower, urging him to stop teasing.

Brett thinks he might be able to get used to Liam being a little more forceful as he tugs down his boxers and bares the younger boy. It’s the first time he’s really seen Liam naked and his breath catches at the sight.

The word beautiful has never come to his mind before when looking at another guy’s dick, but that’s the only adjective he’s got for it.

He’s perfect and just shy of the length of Brett’s hand; his balls hanging low and relaxed beneath. Brett presses a kiss there, knowing that it’ll elicit the reaction he wants. Liam’s fist tightens in his hair and he tries to guide his mouth higher.

Brett curls a hand through the short curly hairs around the base of Liam’s dick.  _He could use a shave though. Maybe he’ll need help with that too._ He puts the thought away for later and acquiesces to Liam’s urging.

He takes the head into his mouth, sliding his lips over the heated skin and reveling in the groan that Liam emits.

“Brett.” Liam’s voice is heavy and guttural in a way that Brett’s never heard before.

He slides his mouth over him, slowly, taking his time to use his tongue and savor every sound that comes from Liam’s parted lips.

Liam thrusts his hips forward, nearly causing Brett to choke, but he manages to steady the younger boy with a firm hand on his abdomen. He slowly allows him to start thrusting again, but he keeps control, slowly inching Liam closer to the back of his throat.

It’s been a while since Brett’s had another guy’s dick in his mouth –  _since high school?_  – but judging from the sounds Liam’s making, he hasn’t lost his touch.

His eyes drift upwards and  _fuck_ , it’s almost enough to make him come again. Liam’s eyes are shut tightly and he’s biting his lips in an obvious attempt to stifle his moaning.

“Br-Brett,” Liam pants, “B. Fuck, I’m gonna . . .”

Brett hums his approval around Liam’s dick, pushing as far down as he can and taking Liam into the back of his throat. He tries – successfully and with not a small amount of pride – to overcome the urge to gag.

Liam cries out and yanks on Brett’s hair as his hips stutter and he spills himself into the older boy’s mouth.

Brett does his best to swallow it all and for a moment he thinks he’s managed it, but is proven wrong when Liam continues to come longer than he’d expected. Brett chokes at the second unexpected stream and pulls off with a splutter.

To his amazement Liam shoots not one, not two, but three more times, covering himself all the way up to his chest.

“That’s the hottest thing I’ve seen in my entire life.” Brett wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, the taste of Liam still heavy and thick on his tongue. It’s not really a pleasant taste, but it’s still Liam.

“Yeah?” Liam obviously hasn’t recovered from his orgasm yet, but that doesn’t stop him from blushing at the compliment.

“Definitely.” Brett nods and crawls forward to capture Liam’s pliant lips in a kiss. “You’re morning breaths, not so hot.” He grins as Liam shoves at his shoulder.

“You’re one to talk. You just swallowed my come.”

“Damn right I did.” Brett beams proudly, tracing his fingertips along Liam’s ribs.

Liam kicks at his leg, hesitates, then climbs over him and smashes his lips down over Brett’s. Brett’s mouth opens, willingly letting Liam explore at his leisure.

“How do you taste?” He asks afterwards.

“I hate you.” Liam shakes his head. He gives Brett a longing look, before kissing him again.

“Right back at you, Li.” Brett whispers.

The two of them spend a grossly unnecessary amount of time staring at each other and feeling their way around – like they’re trying to memorize every curve and imperfection of the other’s body – before Liam rolls off and grumbles about how he’s starving.

“I’m surprised you lasted this long without breakfast.” Brett teases, but hands Liam his boxers and the towel.

He watches as Liam wipes his chest and stomach clean with a great deal of interest.

“Stop staring and get dressed.” Liam throws the soiled towel at him when he’s finished. Brett bats it away with his forearm. “I’m not waiting for you.”

They enter the kitchen together despite Liam’s assertion – though later than everyone else as usual. Allison’s already finished eating and is doing her morning warmup exercises, Lydia’s flipping through a magazine she’s probably already read a million times, and Isaac’s smirking into his oatmeal.

Allison stops her sit-ups momentarily to acknowledge them with a perfunctory nod. “Morning.” Then she’s moving again and making Brett a little nauseous.  _How does she move that fast this early?_

“Morning.” Brett yawns, heading over to the counter while Liam sits at the table in his usual spot.

“Congrats lads.” Isaac says when Brett returns to the table with two bowls of oatmeal. Brett’s eyes flick back and forth from the two guys, seated next to each other. Liam’s smiling at Isaac and communicating something private and probably inappropriate with his eyes.

“Shut up, Isaac.” Lydia flips another page, not bothering to look up.

The two boys bump fists as Brett sets Liam’s bowl in front of him. He shakes his head at them, before taking his own seat.

“It’s a compliment, love.” Isaac leans forward on the table, winking at Brett. “Our little one’s a loud one ain’t he?”

The pleased smirk slips from Liam’s face, leaving him glaring at Isaac with an expression somewhere between betrayal and exasperation.

“It’s not like you’re all that quiet.” Allison calls, not ceasing her routine.

Isaac’s face turns crimson and Brett chuckles.  _No wonder the two of them are getting along so well lately, they’re both part boiled lobster._

Lydia’s brows lift in agreement and she gives a confirming nod to both Brett and Liam. “He’s a moaner.”

“We know.” Brett piles on, enjoying the sudden turn of the tables. “We’ve been considering earplugs.”

“Come off it.” Isaac elbows Liam, who’s grinning like a devil again.

“Don’t dish it if you can’t take it.” Liam says through a mouthful of oatmeal.

Isaac looks at him distastefully, scrunching his nose up at the way Liam’s chewing with his mouth open and shoveling more food in before he’s even swallowed.

“Mate . . .” He glances at Brett. “Tell me he’s a brilliant shag? I can’t wrap my head around another reason you’d put up with that.”

Liam looks at Brett in a brief flash of insecurity.

He smiles reassuringly. “Don’t be jealous Isaac. If you want a crack at him, just say the word.” He watches with amusement as they both go red at the same time.  _Yep. Both part lobster._  He catches Lydia’s eye and sees that she’s smiling right along with him. “Just a heads up though: he’s feisty.”

“As cute as that’d be,” Allison starts before laying back. She continues when she pulls herself back up, just now beginning to break out in a light sweat. “Don’t try to steal our boyfriend.”

“Believe me, I’ll definitely pass on that one.” Brett laughs, leaning back in his chair and pushing his mostly untouched food away from him. He’s not all that hungry this morning. “I already shared a room with him once. I’ve seen his personal hygiene habits.”

“He’s just as bad as me!” Isaac argues, waving a hand at Liam – whose cheeks are puffed out with his tenth mouthful of oatmeal.

“Yeah, but it’s cute on him.” Brett shrugs. Lydia nods and murmurs in agreement.

“You’re supposed to be on my side.” Isaac gripes.

Lydia’s lips twist up, appraisingly. “Sorry, babe. It does work on him.”

Brett voices his support, momentarily thinking about how everything works on Liam.  _He could snore, have horrible bed head, and chew with his mouth open and he’d still be the cutest guy I’ve ever seen . . . oh wait._ He smiles to himself.

“Anyway, now that the two of you are . . . active?” Isaac tries to regain control of the conversation and shift it away from himself. “Should we have a chat about safety? Did your da ever tell you about the birds and the bees?” He directs the last part at Liam, who’s not entertained.

“Did your da ever teach you not to piss off the mentally unstable?” Liam mimics Isaac’s accent, butchering it completely, but it’s a cute attempt.

“Nay, I can’t say he did.” The two of them stare each other down for a few seconds, but Brett doesn’t pay it much attention. They butt heads almost every other hour, but he’s learned that it comes from a place of love and that their little pissing matches would never escalate beyond words.

“That’s alright, I can teach you.” Liam pushes his empty bowl at Isaac.

The older boy stares down at for a second, then looks back to Liam. His hard expression cracks into a smile a moment later and he picks up the bowl, carrying it over to the sink.

Allison rolls to her feet and snatches her towel from the back of a chair. “Anyone up for a run today?” She asks, while drying the sweat from her face.

Brett shakes his head and chances a peek at Liam. He’s hoping to spend the day in bed with him if the others will let them. He doubts how well that’ll hold up though, considering Isaac can barely go three hours without hunting Liam down to drag him off to that corner where they throw darts at a painting of some poor old woman and hoard their now mutual candy supply from the others.

Liam presses his lips together and gives an identical shake. “Legs are still sore from the last hunt.” He mumbles as an excuse. Brett supposes it’s probably true.

“Maybe next time you won’t go running ahead because you think you see a boar.” Allison affectionately swats him with her towel and turns her attention to Lydia.

“Boars aren’t native to New England.” She confirms and then realizes that wasn’t the question being posed to her. “Oh. No. Thanks, but I’ll pass.” The redhead flips her magazine shut and leaves the table.

“C’mon Lydia.” Allison follows her into the living room and Brett tunes them out.

“Should I be offended that she didn’t ask me?” Isaac’s leaning against the counter and looking after the girls.

“No.” Brett smirks secretively at Liam. “She probably just doesn’t want to be seen in public with you. The biters like to gossip.”

“Funny.” Isaac notes dryly. He moves to Liam’s side and looks down at him – Brett can see him resist the urge to clap a hand on Liam’s shoulder. Isaac’s been on his best behavior regarding Liam’s physical boundaries ever since that first night. “C’mon, mate. Let’s go visit great aunt Betty.”

“Nope.” Brett reaches across the table for Liam’s hand, before he can get up. “Not now, Isaac. You can go destroy priceless works of art on your own, but he’s mine for the morning.”

Liam’s fingers slot through his own and he gives Isaac a not-so-apologetic shrug. “Later.”

“What I am I supposed to do?” Isaac sighs. “Run with Ally? Or even worse, read?” He shakes his head unhappily. “The two of you don’t know how lucky you are.” The boys look on as Isaac stalks away, muttering something about how he wishes he were born gay. “I’m taking a shower!” He hollers back, like a petulant child.

“He’s a sore loser.” Brett presses a kiss to Liam’s split knuckle. He comes home with more little scrapes like that each time he goes out, but Brett figures it’s nothing to worry about as long as he’s got no bite marks and all four limbs.

“Brett!” Lydia calls. “Come in here.”

He looks at Liam and tilts his head. “Maybe she’s got a present.” Liam smiles at that and follows him into the other room.

He wasn’t wrong, technically.

Lydia hands the book over from her place on one of the small couches in the reading room. Allison’s on the floor doing some complicated stretching routine that Brett’s not even going to think about trying.  _Humans shouldn’t bend that way._

“Thanks.” He murmurs, accepting the book and looking down at its cover.  _The Charioteer. Mary Renault._ “What’s it about?”

“Read the back, maybe?” She says, patronizingly, but drops the bitch routine just as quickly as she’s revived it. “You’ll love it. It’s about this injured World War II vet who falls completely in love with a conscientious objector named Andrew. The whole thing’s really gay, but it’s Mary Renault so that’s a given. Anyway, it’s straight up your alley.” He looks at her critically. She lets out a fatigued sigh and elaborates. “Not the gay thing – well, yeah, actually that too, I guess – but it’s all about philosophy and the nature of war and love. She’s an amazing author, trust me. There’s a few of her other books lying around here somewhere.”

“Alright, I’ll take a look at it.” He promises, tucking the book against his side and laying down on one of the couches. He pulls Liam on top of him, fitting their bodies together and circling his arms around Liam’s back.

_We’ve got plenty of time to lay in bed later,_ he thinks, _might as well spend some time with the girls right now._

“You two comfy?” Allison pauses her workout to give them an amused smile.

“Very.” Liam mumbles into Brett’s chest.

Brett lifts his brows and nods in agreement, running a hand through Liam’s hair.  _Another shower soon won’t hurt him,_  he thinks idly, scratching at the younger boy’s head. Liam leans into his touch and shifts his head – like a dog trying to get the right spot scratched.

“Ever think about getting him a collar and a leash?” Lydia suggests with a smirk. “Maybe one with sparkles to match his personality?”

Liam lifts his head to glare at Lydia, but it doesn’t hold up for long against the bright amity of her smile. She gets up and moves to their couch, somehow fitting herself at the other end – between Brett’s legs.

“Make yourself comfortable.” Brett says flatly.

“Don’t mind if I do.” Lydia smiles and reaches over to scratch at Liam’s back. He sighs and settles down against the both of them.

Brett’s gaze drifts over to Allison, who’s started another round of sit-ups, then down to Lydia, who’s gotten ahold of a thick hardcover book, and finally to Liam, looking utterly content.

_Quality family time._

* * *

“Oh, I see how it is.” Isaac’s voice disturbs Brett’s nap.

Opening his eyes, he sees Isaac standing under the archway with his arms folded across his chest. His damp hair is curlier than usual and he’s wearing clean clothes for once.

“You send me off, talking about how you’re going to spend some time alone together, only to cozy up out here with my girlfriend?” Brett’s eyes drift down to Lydia, still curled up between his and Liam’s legs. She smiles at him and turns back to her book.

“Sorry, dude.” Brett rubs at his face and assumes that Liam’s still sleeping – judging mostly from the fact that he’s definitely resting all of his weight on Brett right now. “Didn’t plan on it.”

“Well your time’s up, mate.” He notices that Isaac’s got his shoes on and an empty backpack slung over one shoulder. “Wake the little one up so he can come on a supply run with me, will you?”

“For what?” Brett’s arm instinctively tightens around Liam.

“I don’t know about you mate, but I’d like to continue to wipe my arse with toilet paper.” Isaac says, offhandedly. “We could use more shampoo too. How are you girls doing on the feminine products?” He asks Lydia.

“Couldn’t hurt to grab a few boxes.” Lydia doesn’t look up, apparently in agreement with Isaac’s decision to go out.

That’s when he notices that Allison isn’t in the room.  _She must’ve gone on her run._  He’d have gone with her if he’d known that she was going whether or not anyone else went along. Not that he’s really worried about her – because Allison can definitely handle herself, and has for the months before they got here – but it’s a slight break from the precedent they’ve set in the past two weeks. _It’s the first time any of us have left on our own._

“I’ll go.” Brett states. He doesn’t like the idea of Isaac and Liam running around the city on their own, while Allison’s also unaccounted for.

“No you won’t.” Liam grumbles, lifting his head up. He looks at Isaac. “Give me ten minutes.” Then to Brett. “You went out yesterday.” He continues before Brett can object. “Plus, you just showered and you smell really good right now. Let’s hold onto that as long as we can.”

“So I just have to put up with you smelling like ass?” Brett grins, despite his apprehension.

Liam shrugs, smiling sleepily. “Not my problem.”

“You sure you’re up for it, mate?” Brett can tell from Isaac’s tone that the question isn’t serious or at all concerned with Liam’s wellbeing. “You  _can_  walk right?”

The book Lydia had given Brett is snatched from his side and Liam hurls it across the room at Isaac. It narrowly misses a head-on collision with his face; instead clattering against the floor in the kitchen.

“What?” Isaac’s grinning wickedly. “He’s tall! Oh . . . unless . . .” His mocking gaze falls on Brett. “Did you let the little one take your innocence, mate?”

The second book hits him in the shoulder and he doubles over in dramatized pain.

“I was reading that.” Lydia scoffs, holding her – now empty – hands aloft.

“Sorry.” Brett shrugs, grinning sheepishly. “Couldn’t help myself.”

“So . . ?” Isaac questions, forgoing his injured routine. “Are we going?”

“Fuck off.” Liam mutters, shoving off of Brett. The older boy grunts at the pressure of Liam’s palm against his chest – which he uses as leverage to climb off the couch.

“Thanks for that.” He mumbles as Liam stumbles out of the room, only half-awake.

He returns shortly after with his sneakers and coat on.

Brett sits up and eyes the pair of them. Liam’s got his jaw set in a way that Brett knows is impossible to argue with, but that’s not going to stop him from insisting that Liam keep a cool head and not let his guard down out there.

He does all of this while Liam pretends to listen and Isaac mocks him behind his back.

“Back before nighttime, you got me?” He looks to Isaac to make sure that both of them are clear on that. “Otherwise I’m coming after you.”

“We’ll be fine mum.” Isaac grins, swinging an arm over Brett’s shoulders. “I’ll take care of the little one.”

“Do both of us a favor and don’t call him that right before you two head out together – alone.” He and Liam share a smirk. “I don’t need to explain to Allison why you never made it back.”

Isaac chews his tongue and nods, like he’s just received some sage advice. “Understood mate. How’s shorty? Ankle biter? No?”

Liam’s look of distaste is pretty clear indication that Isaac might need rescue at some point, but Brett swallows his reservations and briefly hugs Isaac, wishing him luck and murmuring a few last cautionary words.

“Back in one piece.” He warns Liam, while Isaac kneels beside Lydia.

“Always do.” Liam looks uncomfortable under the heaviness of his eyes, but he can’t really help it. He’s always nervous when Liam goes out, but this time he won’t have Allison at his back and that worries him more than usual.

_He’s not a child. And he’ll have Isaac to watch out for him . . . hopefully him not being a child will balance out that handicap._

“Want anything special?” Liam asks with a cough, clearly desperate to avoid an emotional parting.

Brett smiles at him, doing his best to keep his concerns concealed. “Just be back before I need to go out searching for you.”

“Aw quit you’re worrying.” Isaac reappears at his side. “We can handle ourselves.”

“I know.” Brett holds Liam’s eyes. He’s actually surprised when Liam doesn’t look away. He’s usually not one for prolonged eye contact, but there’s a deep resoluteness set amid the blue.

“Back before dark.” Liam promises and steps into Brett’s arms for a tight hug, which doesn’t last nearly long enough. “Have dinner ready for us?” The younger boy smiles and Brett’s heart skips a beat.

“Of course.” Brett returns the smile. “No one wants to deal with you when you don’t get your ten square meals.”

“Try to come up with a new joke while we’re out.” Liam’s snarky remark comes as he and Isaac are already making their way out of the loft.

And then they’re gone.

“Sit down.” Lydia says, after Brett’s been staring at the closed door for what’s probably been minutes. “You’re going to give yourself a brain hemorrhage. Read the book I gave you. I’ll make some tea.”

He obeys her and sits, taking a few breaths to calm his nerves, before picking up the book and examining the cover. Two winged horses – one white and one black – appear to be struggling against their reins as a shadowed man tries to steer them through a storm.  _Looks boring._  He flips it open to the first page.

_“It was the first time he had ever heard the clock strike ten at night.”_

* * *

“How was your run?” Lydia asks when Allison finally returns.

The dark haired girl beams at her. “Good.” She’s still breathing a little heavy and her hair’s tied up, to keep it from sticking to the sweat on her face. “I’m gonna take a shower.” She pauses, seeming to notice the absence of the boys. “Are they abusing that painting still?”

“No.” Brett sits up and untangles his legs from Lydia’s. She doesn’t seem to notice much and goes right on reading her book. “They went out for supplies.”

He’s been nervous about explaining to Allison why he’d let them go, but she merely nods. “How long have they been gone for?”

“Almost two hours.” He shrugs, “I’d have gone with them-”

“They’re not helpless.” Allison brushes away his concerns. “Isaac might be a pain in the ass, but he does know how to handle himself. For the most part, anyway.” She lifts a brow at him, while making her way out of the room. “And you haven’t seen Liam in action since I’ve got my hands on him.”

Brett doesn’t know whether to thank or curse her, but luckily neither’s required before she disappears into the other room. The low rumble of water flowing through pipes sounds a minute later.

“Relax.” Lydia’s hand finds his elbow. “You can’t get all worked up like this every time he goes out.”

“Usually he’s with Ally.” Brett mutters.

“You heard her; she believes in him. You should too.” Her tone is critical, but her touch is comforting. “And . . . Isaac’s not useless. Ally’s not the only reason we made it this far, you know.”

“I know that.”

“Do you?” Her eyes hold a challenge that he can’t meet. “The way you’ve been acting – like only the two of you can do anything around here – is insulting. We all pull our weight.”

He looks down at his clasped hands.  _She’s right. She doesn’t know the whole story, but she’s still right._

“After we had to run,” her continuation surprises him, “back when we lost the twins,” He doesn’t fail to notice that she refers to them as ‘the twins’ and avoids speaking Aiden’s name. “I couldn’t move. I gave up on everything . . . It was Isaac who picked me up and carried me.”

“Is that when?” He broaches, cautiously.

She smiles and the simple twitch of muscles lightens the gravity of her solemn face. “No. That didn’t happen until later on. I was . . . well you know how I get some times. On the bad days.”

He nods, chewing at the inside of his lip. He remembers how her behavior could suddenly become erratic and how Allison would promptly usher her home and refuse to let anyone else help.

_“She needs to rest.”_ Allison would say, her arms folded and her body blocking the door to their dorm.

“Well, this one was worse than all of that.” The smile never slips from her face. There’s a slight sorrowful tilt to her lips, but he knows that smiling is usually the only way for her to talk about the hard things. “I wouldn’t talk or move for weeks and they had to force me to eat. It was probably the most selfish I’ve ever been, ignoring both of them when they were trying to do whatever they could to help.”

His lips part to object to that, but she’s ready for it and silences him with an imploring look.

“Anyway, long story short, Allison kissed me.” She’s got his complete attention, but there’s no discomfort in her posture – she wears it like she was born for it. “I can’t tell you how long, I’d wanted that for . . . The moment after was the longest of my life and I had no idea what would happen. Then I looked at Isaac and he smiled.” He can see the memory playing out on her face. It makes him feel like an intruder, like he needs to be careful where he steps so as not to leave his mark on anything. “He wasn’t jealous, he was just happy that I was finally looking at them again. So I kissed him.”

The picture paints itself for Brett. The three of them huddled together in some dark corner of the city; desperate for survival and comfort.  _A love born of compassion._

“You need to trust him.” Lydia says. “It’s the only way for any of us to make it anymore.”

_Tell that to Allison,_  he thinks petulantly.  _Tell her to trust you, to tell you what she knows and what she’s done to keep you safe._

She produces a little orange bottle, seemingly out of nowhere.  _Fuck._ All thoughts of Allison’s secrets are banished in the light of his own.

“You found those.” He states, examining the Lithium bottle with guilt.

“You didn’t do a great job of hiding them.” She rattles the pills around, before pressing the bottle into his open hand. “In the bookcase? Really? You didn’t think anyone would find them?”

“It was supposed to be temporary.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I couldn’t keep them in our room.”

“He has a right to know.”

“I know.” He says, slowly. “I’m just . . . worried. What if he wants to take them? Exercise has been working for him and we don’t have a limitless supply.” There’s about a million reasons why he doesn’t want Liam to start taking them, but Lydia doesn’t let him get to them all.

“It’s not your decision.” Her voice is gentle, despite the weight of the words. “You care about him, but you don’t know how he’s feeling on the inside. He might be fine now, but believe me, that can change in the blink of an eye.”

“I know.” He repeats. “I’ve seen it before.”

“He should know that he’s got a cushion if he needs it.”

He wants to argue that he can be Liam’s cushion, that he can help him deal with anything, that they can talk or meditate, or do  _something_  – but he doesn’t. Despite his feelings on it, he knows that Lydia’s more experienced when it comes to things like this.  _Not to mention I botched that up pretty good once already._

Liam smiling down at his scar fills his mind. He doesn’t know exactly what it is that Liam likes about the damned mark so much, but he sure as fuck knows what he hates about it.

_That was my failure. That was how close I came to losing him._

“Alright. I’ll tell him soon, just . . . give me some time alright?”

“Of course.” She rests her head on his shoulder. “You’ll both be better for it. You can’t have trust without honesty.”

_Alright mom,_  he inwardly snickers at that. He doesn’t voice it though; he knows that Lydia’s earned her wisdom through pain and loss and experience.  _Cora always said she was smarter than the rest of us._

Allison’s appearance a second later couldn’t have been any timelier if they’d coordinated it. His eyes fall on her and he wishes that Lydia would give her the same speech she’d just leveled at him.

* * *

If Brett had been nervous before, now he’s in a flow blown panic. The sun had risen to its highest peak and began its descent moments before violently gray clouds rolled in and blotted out its light. The heavy downpour that followed seemed like a kick in the gut.

“Staring out the window isn’t going to make them run any faster.” Allison informs him from where she’s curled up on the couch with Lydia.

Brett blinks. The glass panes are covered in thick droplets and more are falling from the sky, with an urgency that suggests they should start preparations on building an arc.

“They would have started heading back when the rain started.” He utters.

“They’ll move slower in the rain: try to avoid getting soaked if possible.” Allison’s response is predictable; it’s what she’d do. But he knows those two and he knows that they wouldn’t waste time being careful.

He pictures the two of them running through the streets, soaking wet and being pursued by a herd of mutant zombies – their unnatural limbs clawing for ankles and stray clothing.

“I’m going to look for them.” He’s on his feet, already heading for the front door.

“Brett, stop.” Allison’s quick, trying to block his path. “You’re not going out alone, not in this weather.”

“We can’t just wait here!”

“You think I don’t want to go after them!” Allison matches his emotion with her own. “But we don’t have a choice here!”

He scowls at her, but catches Lydia watching from the corner of his eye. She’s clearly distressed. His eyes flicker back to Allison. He can see the cracks in her composure and resolve.

She takes a long, shaky breath. “We need to trust them.”

He looks into her eyes for a long time, trying to find a way around his objections that will let him concede to her judgement. He can’t.

“I’m sorry.” He turns and makes for the door.

His hand is an inch from the doorknob when it twists and the door swings open – releasing two soaking wet boys into the room.

Liam rushes past him, without any acknowledgement, but Isaac pulls him into a waterlogged hug.

“You’re late.” Brett says, but there’s no conviction in his voice. He’s just happy to have them home.

“Just wait till you hear why.” Something in Isaac’s tone causes him to look over his shoulder at Liam.

He’s holding something in his arms – a bundled up blanket.

“We need towels.” He speaks to the girls forcefully, while rubbing his arms over the wet blanket. He quickly ditches his jacket to the floor where it lands with a squelch.

“What’s going on?” Brett heads straight for Liam, grabbing at his wet sleeve with the intention to take the shirt off of him before he catches pneumonia.

Liam pulls away from him, shivering, but completely unconcerned with anything but the blanket. His teeth are chattering and his eyes are darting back and forth across the room; visibly impatient with the amount of time it takes for Allison to return with a dry towel.

“Are one of you going to explain all this?” Allison manages to keep Liam’s attention after handing over the towel.

He smiles at her.

“You’re kidding me.” Brett’s jaw falls open as Liam unwraps the blanket.

“That’s what I said.” Isaac smirks as the group watches Liam transfer a small dog from the soaking blanket into the towel.

“You brought a dog home.” Brett can’t believe it. There’s a little runty gray-colored puppy, wriggling around in the towel as Liam attentively tries to dry its fur. “You actually brought a dog home.”

“He did.” Isaac affirms, – while grinning at the others - finally able to show them what he’s been dealing with.

“We found him.” Liam wraps his arms around the dog and hugs it close to his chest, “He was soaked and there were biters coming.” His blue eyes finally meet Brett’s. “I couldn’t just leave him.”

Brett’s thoughts linger on the word ‘ _biters’_. Over the past week Liam’s begun to alternate between calling them corpses like he always has and biters like the rest of them do. It’s not a big deal really, but somehow it makes Brett feel more like he’s settling down with them.  _Like he’s starting to think of himself as part of the group._

“Neither could I.” Isaac chimes in, “Not till I tried to pick it up and the damned thing nearly tore my finger off.”

“He doesn’t like people.” Liam presses a kiss to the thing’s matted fur. Brett can see it in his eyes that he’s completely smitten with it.  _I doubt there’s any use in trying to convince him that we can’t keep it._

“He’s so cute.” Lydia reaches out for it, but wavers when she’s met with a surprisingly strong growl. “. . . alright then, maybe a little less cute.”

Isaac shakes his head at her. “Don’t feel bad, love. The mutt’s taken with Liam and only Liam. My first guess was that it’s the smell, but it could be that they’re the same size.”

Liam doesn’t rise to the taunt. “He’s cute.” He looks at Brett, a silent plea in his blue eyes. The dog looks at him at the same time, with very similar blue eyes.  _Of-fucking-course_. “Don’t you think?”

He looks to the others. Lydia and Isaac mostly look upset that the dog isn’t taking to them like it’s done with Liam, and Allison is simply looking on in amusement. None of them seem ready to argue with Liam over this.

“Yeah.” He sighs in resignation to their new houseguest. “What’d you name him?”

“I don’t know.” Liam shrugs, “Haven’t yet, I guess. Getting him away from the biters seemed more important than finding a baby name book.”

“Looks like a husky.” Brett examines the small ball of fur. Triangular ears, bright blue eyes, a thick coat of gray and white fur. “Could be a Malamute or Akita, I guess.”

“Since when do you know about dogs?” Allison steps close, peering at the dog and seeming unfazed by its threating growl.

“I don’t really.” He shrugs. “Satomi had a few.”

“Hey, buddy.” The grin that comes to Liam’s face when the puppy sniffs at his chin before licking him is enough to seal the deal.  _I’m not going to be the one to separate him from that thing_.

“You’re soaked.” Brett points out to an oblivious Liam. “Go change, before you get sick.”

Liam looks at the dog, then down at himself. He nods and sets the bundle down on the floor.

“I’ll be right back.” He leaves, abandoning them to deal with the cranky canine.

“So I’m going to guess that you didn’t bring back any tampons?” Lydia asks.

“Don’t blame me.” Isaac holds his hands out in surrender, “I’m not the one who dropped everything to play safari rescue.”

Brett kneels down and reaches out to the little thing as it wriggles free from the towel and takes a few tentative steps around the wooden floorboards. It sniffs at his hand and seems about to warm up to him, but instead sneezes on him and turns its head.

“Brat.” Brett ignores the giggles and wipes his hand off on his jeans.

“So we’re keeping him?” Lydia sounds a little nervous about the prospect. “I mean, we can’t not.”

“Speak for yourself.” Isaac watches with distaste as the dog shakes out its fur, sending droplets of water all over the couch. “I’m going to get changed and try to forget about today.”

“Stop whining.” Allison smacks him on the ass as he walks by.

“What do you think?” Brett asks her, keeping one eye on the dog – which already seems to be looking for trouble to get into.

“Lydia’s right.” She smiles at the red haired girl. “What are we gonna do? Put it out on the street?”

“We could.” Brett mumbles, without meaning it. “It’s going to be trouble.”

“That’s what I said about you two.” Allison arches a brow. “But we let you stay anyway.”

“Oh, thanks.” He shakes his head. “We can feed it at least.”

Allison agrees and heads into the kitchen to grab a chunk of deer meat. She returns a few minutes later with Liam in tow, while Brett and Lydia try to corral the pup away from the nice furniture.

“Here, bud.” Liam drops to his knees and holds his arms open, wrapping the dog in a hug and accepting the meat from Allison. They all watch as Liam rips off chunks and feeds them to it. He looks thoughtful, watching it tear the deer meat apart and eat like it hasn’t in weeks. “Zeppelin.”

“Zeppelin?” Brett repeats, slowly.

“Zep for short.” Liam nods, affirming himself. “He’s still hungry.”

_Guess the similarities don’t end at the eye color._

“I’ll get some more.” Allison says. “Whatever’ll keep him from barking.”

“He won’t bark, he’s a good boy. Aren’t you?” Brett feels a bought of nausea rise at Liam’s baby voice.

“Is he going to keep growling at the rest of us? Because I know you think it’s cute and all, but that thing probably hasn’t had any shots in a while and if he gives someone rabies, it won’t be pretty.”

Liam glares at him, holding the dog in his arms like an actual baby. “It’s been a year.” His tone is dry and irritated. “He’s fine. Probably.”

Lydia and Brett meet eyes with mutual concern.

“He won’t bite.” Liam promises. “He’s just nervous around so many people.”

“Here.” Allison presses a chunk of deer into Liam’s hand. “Give him this to keep him quiet and explain to us how this all happened. Isaac, get down here!”

“If littler Satan bites me, we’re going to have a problem Ally.” Isaac protests, but stomps down the steps anyway.

Liam begins to feed the dog from his hand, while the rest of them arrange themselves on the couches and listen as he begins his story.

“We were running down Beacon Street, trying to get away from this herd and Isaac heard whimpering, so then . . .”

* * *

_There’s no way we can separate him from that dog._  Brett’s watching Liam recount the story for the third time to the group, while letting it lick his hand – which is by now completely devoid of the deer meat or its blood. Still it keeps on licking.

“Zeppelin.” Isaac’s watching the dog closely. “Least you’ve given it a good name.”

_Led Zeppelin,_  Brett shakes his head. He’d only figured out the namesake a few minutes ago, which is pathetic considering how often Liam rambles about the band. The puppy slams its front paws to the ground and bites at the seam of Liam’s jeans, twisting its head back and forth in an attempt to tear the material.  _Slipknot might have been more fitting. Or Liam._

Brett’s never going to admit it, but he’s starting to feel a little jealous over all the attention Liam’s paying the dog.  _He’s barely even looked at me since he got back. I spent hours losing my shit and worrying about him and he can’t focus on anything but the dog for more than five seconds._

Liam laughs as the dog lunges for his face, only to deliver a few wet licks with its wide tongue.

_It’s hard to feel resentment when the dog’s putting that smile on his face._

“Is he housetrained?” Lydia asks. “These floors are real mahogany and I swear to god-” She stops as Zeppelin lifts his leg in the corner. “Are you kidding me?”

“Zeppelin!” Liam rushes to the dog and snatches it up into his arms, but not fast enough to stop it from pissing all over the floor. His head whips around to face Lydia, with an almost petrified look in his eyes. “I’ll clean it up!”

“Smart dog.” Isaac jokes at Lydia’s expense. “It’s like you gave him his cue.”

“Isaac-” Lydia wheels around on him, her face growing red.

Allison swoops over in time to prevent any bloodshed, wrapping her arms around Lydia and steering her away from Isaac.

“Ignore him.” She advises, glaring at their boyfriend. “Liam’s going to clean it up. Just think about that cute face.”

“If that cute face can piss in the house then why can’t I?” Isaac protests. Brett sees the look of mischief in his eyes and has to resist the urge to smack him in the back of the head.

“I was talking about Liam.” Allison answers. “Not the devil dog. You can keep peeing off the roof.”

“So obviously we’ve got our work cut out for us.” Brett interrupts them, hoping that the four of them can come to some sort of consensus before Liam returns. “The thing isn’t housetrained, it’s not friendly, and it’s probably got rabies.”

“Fucking metal.” Isaac mumbles.

“Anyway,” Brett continues, “I don’t see Liam giving it up.”

“He looks happy.” Lydia’s clearly in agreement, judging from her tone, but Brett knows she’s not about to vouch on behalf of the animal that just pissed on the floors that she’s so proud of.

“A dog could come in handy.” Allison says, thoughtfully. “He’s at least a few months old right? He’s survived this long on his own, he’s obviously got some skills. It’s not a resource you come by every day . . . not to mention those eyes.” She looks to Lydia, “Did you see how blue?”

“Don’t look at me.” Isaac presses his lips together. “I’m no Cruella de Vil; don’t expect me to go turning helpless puppies out onto the zombie infested streets.”

Brett looks one last time at each of them, receiving silent confirmation all around.  _Alright then. We’re all weak and spineless, so new pet it is._

“We’ll make it work.” He sighs, fisting a hand through his hair.

Liam breaks up their conversation a moment later with his frantic return and one-armed attempt to dry up the dog pee before it spreads anywhere near Lydia’s carpet.

“Let me help you with that, mate.” Isaac takes the snapping puppy off of Liam’s hands, holding it out at arm’s length to avoid getting bitten.

Brett watches Liam clean the floor with muttered apologies and frequent glances towards his new companion.

_Hey, Liam. My name’s Brett, not sure if you remember me but I sucked you off this morning. Anyway, I’ll see you around sometime, yeah?_

Unaware of his internal snark, Liam finishes cleaning up and gives Lydia his biggest, sincerest, most manipulative puppy dog face: pouty lips, expressive eyes and all.

Brett enters the kitchen with a mission.  _There’s always a shortcut to that kid’s heart._ He hesitates, briefly, after grabbing a bowl of the stew that Lydia had made earlier.  _If I give him this and he still doesn’t notice me, I’ll probably have to formally relinquish my place to that mutt . . ._ On the way out of the kitchen he snags a piece of deer meat that Allison carved up and left on the counter.

“What?” Liam looks up at him for the first time when he presses the bowl into his grimy hands. “Oh, thanks.” The smile on his face shifts, becoming more private. “How was everything?”

“Alright.” Brett suppresses a sigh. “Spent most of the day worrying over your dumb ass.”

That sends Liam’s eyes straight back to the dog.

“He’s cute, right?” They lock gazes when Brett’s answer doesn’t come automatically. “You don’t like him?”

“I do.” Brett sits on the couch next to Liam, throwing an arm around his shoulders. The dog immediately stops terrorizing Isaac to run over and growl at him, menacingly. “I think it’s him who’s got the problem.”

“He’s just protective.” Liam defends the furry monster.

Brett hums something that might be taken as agreement. It’s not. But it might be taken that way.

He reaches down and lobs the meat towards Zeppelin, who snatches it before it can even hit the ground and begins to ravenously shred it between his pearly whites. Brett wipes his hand off on Liam’s thigh and ignores the grin on his face.

“You think he’s cute.”

“I think you’re a pain in the ass.” He bumps the sides of their heads together.

Brett resigns himself to trying to warm up Liam’s chilled skin, while ignoring the ceaseless rumble of the dog’s threats and trying to keep his stomach calm at the sight of Liam’s eating habits.

Somehow Isaac and Liam find themselves in an argument over whether or not dogs can become zombies – which grows more and more morbid as it goes on – and while that train wreck unfolds, the girls discreetly withdraw to the mezzanine above them, with hushed whispers and private giggles.

“Dude, your girlfriends ditched you.” Brett points out, after suffering through a detailed description of how it’s theoretically possible for the virus to cross the species-barrier and infect animals – including dogs.

_Sometimes I wish Isaac really was too stupid for medical school. He’s the textbook definition of a future malpractice suit._

“I’m hurt!” Isaac hollers up above, receiving a squeal in response. Brett tries not to think about what caused it. “Women.” He sighs.

“We’ll make it up to you later!” There’s a blatant suggestion in Allison’s voice that makes Liam turn tomato red and Brett shake his head.

“Well then . . .” Isaac smirks and waggles his brows at the boys.

“We’re going to bed.” Liam stands and scoops Zeppelin into his arms; making a quick exit from the room. Brett hears their bedroom door shut a moment later.

“Looks like you’ve got competition.” Isaac chuckles at the expression on his face.

“Like you don’t?” Brett snaps back. He pauses. “Should I be jealous?”

“You’re cute mate, but not that cute. You’ve just got to come to terms with his new man.”

Brett bristles under Isaac’s mocking gaze.

“Don’t give me that look.” Isaac stands up to stretch and offers a hand to Brett. He takes it and lets the Scot pull him up as well. “Now you get to see what it’s like to compete for the little one’s attention.”

“Bite me.” Brett huffs, making his way through the kitchen and towards what used to be his and Liam’s room, but has probably already been converted into a kennel.

“I think our new housemate’s got that one covered!”

The first thing Brett hears upon entering the room is a low and threatening growl.

“You’re kidding me.” He can’t help but smile at Liam, curled up with the dog in the center of the bed. “Can’t he sleep on the floor or something? You already take up twice the room that you need.”

“No way.” Liam doesn’t give Brett a chance to argue. “He needs me.”

“Don’t pull that puppy dog face with me.” Brett strips off his shirt, dropping it on top of the dog – which struggles valiantly for its freedom. “It might work on Lydia, but I know your bullshit when I see it.”

“What if he’s good?” Liam questions, his eyes drawn to Brett’s hands as he undoes his zipper and slides his jeans down his hips.

_At least I’ve still got something that interests him._

“If he bites me, I’m biting you.” Is all Brett says, climbing in on the side of Liam and kissing his shoulder.

Zeppelin’s eyes scrutinize him through the sleeve of his discarded shirt. This time the growl is backed up with bared teeth and a possessive paw on Liam’s bare chest.

“Hey.” Liam chides softly, squeezing the pup’s side. “Don’t do that. He’s alright.”

“You’re both little shits.” Brett mumbles, rolling away so that the dog will let them get some sleep.

“Come back.” Liam throws an arm around his shoulders and forces him to stay pressed up against his side. “He’ll be good, I promise.”

Brett meets the dog’s eyes and knows that that’s not true.

“If you bring another animal home, we’re having it for dinner.” He threatens, but there’s no malice behind it.  _The damn thing’s making him smile. Fuck all if I can be angry about that. Mildly irritated, for sure, but not angry._

“That’s kind of what I do on a daily basis, if you haven’t noticed.” Liam points out teasingly.

“Go to sleep, asshole.” He presses a kiss to Liam’s lips, only to be met with another low snarl. “Is he for real?”

The dog vanishes underneath the shirt for a moment, only to return with its entire snout pressed through the sleeve. He laps at Liam’s chin a few times, before settling back down and burying his nose into Liam’s side.

“I’m actually competing with a dog.” He says it disbelievingly.

Liam gives him an apologetic smile, but he doesn’t attempt to disprove him. Instead he snuggles up between the both of them, keeping an arm around each and looking utterly at peace with the world.

Within minutes the room is filled with the sounds of soft snores and whimpers.

_I guess I’ll tolerate the miniature ball of rage for now . . . the dog too._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright so I think I handled the first time jump pretty well, what do you guys think? This chapter took WAY longer than expected, but I like the way it turned out, so I guess it's alright. Oh! Shout out to red_to_black for supporting more dogs in Briam zombie AU fiction!


	14. Coup de Grâce

**Liam’s POV**

“Dick.” Liam punches Brett in the shoulder in retaliation for the slap on the ass.

Brett grins at him in the mirror, wrapping his arms around Liam’s naked torso.

“Sorry.” He mumbles, kissing the blonde boy’s shoulder. “Couldn’t help myself.”

Liam shakes his head and finishes shaving the remainder of his face. It’s only the second time he’s done it and he’s had to put up with Brett’s constant teasing that it’s unnecessary. _What’s really unnecessary is him rubbing up on me while I’m trying to shave._

Brett’s fingers edge up along his towel and threaten to undo the loose knot securing it around his waist. Liam’s tempted to let him, but they don’t have time today; they’re going out with Isaac to scavenge for winter clothing. Liam thinks it’s unnecessary, seeing as it’s the first day of August and still over ninety degrees out, but Allison and Brett slammed their gavels and overruled any objections.

“Knock it off.” He elbows Brett, pushing him away so that he can wipe the residual shaving cream from his face. Turning around he eyes Brett’s naked body and ignores the lazy smirk on his annoying face. “Put some clothes on.”

“Don’t like what you see?” Brett folds his arms, knowing that Liam definitely does like what he sees.

_Arrogant prick._

“Cover it up or I’ll get Zep to bite it off.” He shoves past Brett and leaves the bathroom before he makes a poor decision and drags him back into the shower – cold water and waiting friends be damned.

Zeppelin immediately rises from where he’s curled up outside the door and pads over to Liam.

“Hey buddy.” He reaches down to scratch behind the small dog’s ears. It’s been two days since they brought him home and he’s barely left Liam’s side at all.

Liam’s pretty certain that he’s the only one who’s happy about that.

“Hurry it up, mate.” Isaac’s lying on the ground, near their corner and looking impatient. “We’re losing daylight.”

“Just a sec.” Liam nods, picking up his pace a bit.

He dresses quickly once in his room, while Zeppelin makes himself comfortable on their unmade bed. Brett lazily enters a few minutes later, only wearing his boxers and yawning.

“Think we could get away with a few more hours of sleep?” He suggests coyly.

“Go back to bed.” Liam answers, not 100% joking. “We can handle it.” _You’re tired and look like shit._ He doesn’t say that part, but, well, it’s true. Neither of them have been getting much sleep, but Brett seems stressed – which is kind of terrifying, because Liam hasn’t known him to be anything but irritatingly calm.

“I was kidding.” He looks upset, but Liam’s not going to apologize. _He should be sleeping more._

He shrugs and sits on the bed to ruffle Zep’s fur and kiss him on the nose, while Brett dresses and arms himself. Liam watches the practiced movements with a casual sort of interest. If he wasn’t able to see it in Brett’s eyes, he’d assume that those were the gestures of someone who’s ready to run a marathon or take on a thousand zombies.

“Something wrong?” The older boy asks without looking at Liam, as he secures the machete to his belt.

“No.” Liam sighs and rests his head against Zeppelin’s side. The dog returns his sigh and grumbles contentedly. “You just look tired.”

“I might be less tired if you didn’t let the dog sleep in our bed.” He gives Zeppelin their trademark challenging stare, which the dog returns perfunctorily.

“He needs me.” Liam whines and kisses the dog’s cheek. He pauses, eyeing Brett’s feet. “Is it really him that’s keeping you up?”

Brett looks at him for a long time and Liam wishes he could understand whatever’s in those equable eyes. He probably wouldn’t be able to decipher Brett’s thoughts, but he always feels underprepared for everything with him.

“No.” Brett shakes his head and drops to a knee in front of him. “It’s not him for once. We’ll talk later, yeah?”

Liam would rather they talk now, but he knows better than to argue before they go out. He’s able to restrain himself from asking questions, but he can’t do anything about the lump that forms in his throat or the dread that coils around his stomach.

_No distractions. Distractions get people killed._

“Yeah.” He nods, still trying to decipher anything in Brett’s expression. _Note to Liam: Never play poker with Brett._

“Alright.” Brett claps him on the shoulder, with gentle affirmation. Then his hand slides up to the back of Liam’s neck and sends shivers down his spine. “We should go.”

“You always say that right before you start groping me.” Liam grins into the bed.

“Not today.” Isaac barges into the room, without knocking. _Granted the door is open, but still._ “I’m not getting stuck out after dark again.” His eyes land accusingly on Liam.

Zeppelin growls protectively and rises up to challenge Isaac.

“He does realize he’s the size of a teddy bear, right?” Isaac looks to Brett in disbelief.

“Which one?” Brett pulls on his sneakers and ties them, ignoring Liam’s glare. “Either way the answer is no.”

They’re all silent as Brett finishes getting dressed and hauls Liam to his feet. There’s a few seconds of awkward shifting and darting eyes, before Isaac voices what they’re all thinking about.

“He’s not going to be pleased when you leave.” Three pairs of blue eyes fall on the dog, who’s itching his nose between his paws and completely oblivious to them. “Maybe we should just bring him along? It’d save the girls a headache.”

“No.” Brett shuts down the idea before Liam can even ask. “No way. Just think about it for a second.”

Liam does and quickly comes to agree with Brett. One mental image of Zep’s grey fur matted with blood is enough for his entire life, never mind the potential for the real thing.

“He’ll be good.” He says, instead of arguing like he’s expected to. “He likes Lydia.”

“He’s just smart, he is.” Isaac gives the dog a knowing look. “Understands he messed up big time by pissing on the floors and now he’s trying to get back in the queen’s good graces so he don’t have to sleep on the roof.”

Zep’s head tilts up when he notices the three of them staring.

“Not to break up the family meeting or anything, but breakfast is on the table.” Allison appears in the doorway, leaning against the frame and still dressed in a threadbare tank top and pajama pants. “You might want to eat before you head out.”

Liam catches the glint in Isaac’s eyes and that gives him all the warning he needs to beat him to the doorway and shove him out of the way – almost toppling Ally over in the process. He books it across the guest wing and is the first one into the kitchen, with Zeppelin close on his heels. He slams his hand down on the counter in victory while Lydia rolls her eyes and finishes setting the table.

Isaac comes in a moment later, muttering in defeat and with Allison’s arm wrapped comfortingly around his shoulders.

“Don’t hurt anyone before you go out.” Lydia’s eyes fall on Liam, whose first instinct is to grin sheepishly. “If November comes and I don’t have a North Face, I’ll be wrapping your cute little body around me for warmth.”

“Take a number.” Brett breaths in Liam’s ear and slides his large, familiar hands over his abdomen, as he presses up behind him. Zeppelin sees the interaction and hurries over to nose at Liam’s hand – demanding he split his attentions.

“Already got third place.” Isaac mumbles around a spoonful of oatmeal, with his hand raised up.

Liam breaks away from both Brett and Zep to take a seat at the table and dig in, before Allison can lay a claim to him as well. Of course Brett’s right behind him and takes his seat across from him, while Zeppelin busies himself with pawing at his legs under the table and whining for attention.

“Boys haven’t fought over me like that since I developed before all the other girls.” Lydia sighs dramatically, but winks and smiles at Liam.

“You can have them.” He grumbles, taking a bite of his oatmeal. He keeps his eyes on the bowl, but he can feel Brett and Zep’s eyes on him. “I’m kidding.” He relents, meeting both of their stares in turn. “For the most part.”

“You guys going to manage alright, keeping the monster here?” Brett asks in between bites. Liam watches how he patiently swallows his food before speaking.

“We’ll be fine.” Allison hands Lydia a glass of water, before wrapping her arms around Brett’s neck and resting her chin on his head. “Just look out for the dynamic duo, will you?”

“Maybe we can give him a bath.” Lydia cringes after looking at Zep under the table. “Or maybe I want to keep all of my fingers today.”

“Yeah, I’d hold off on that.” Brett chuckles at the thought of Lydia trying to soap up the dog. “Maybe we can find a muzzle while we’re out.”

“We won’t.” Liam almost drops his spoon. “No one’s muzzling my dog.”

“I meant for you.” Brett teases.

“Kinky.”

Liam glares at Isaac, but doesn’t dignify him with a response. Instead he opts to ignore all five of them and chow down while he’s still got time. _They’re gonna be the one’s complaining that they’re hungry later on not me . . ._

Actually . . . he figures it’ll probably still be him who’s irritable and hungry in a few hours.

The conversation at the table drifts completely out of Liam’s interest as the other four start talking about school things he doesn’t understand and doesn’t care to. Zeppelin rests his head on Liam’s thigh in solidarity.

_Whoever Professor Hyde is, she sounds like a bitch_ , he thinks absentmindedly, while trailing along with their conversation.

“Can you imagine if we’d had Stiles in that class?” Lydia takes Allison’s hand and pulls her down to share a seat with her. “There’s no way he’d sit there and take it. He would’ve gotten expelled for standing up to her.”

“There’s a million reasons Stiles would’ve gotten expelled.” Allison seems completely at ease, wrapped around Lydia. “If he could even get in in the first place.”

“He was actually pretty smart.” Lydia says, not really challenging Allison – more like informing her. “He was supposed to major in criminology and forensics.”

Liam nods in agreement. He realizes that Brett’s been staring at him for at least a few minutes. _He didn’t know Stiles, but he knows I did._

“He did my homework once.” He blurts out, feeling like he’s obligated to share the information. “After I got drunk at your party. I had physics homework due the next morning and he finished it for me. Got a perfect score on it. For once.”

“I forgot you knew them all.” There’s an idea in Allison’s eyes and Liam knows she wants to ask him questions about Scott. He’s actually been expecting it since they starting hunting together, but she’s never brought the subject up and he sure as fuck isn’t about to casually mention her ex.

“Stiles never liked me much.” Liam shrugs.

Lydia scoffs. “He’s just prickly. If anyone should understand that it’s you.” She teases, but there’s no ill-will in it. “Him and Scott used to whisper about how to make you feel more at home with the group when they thought no one was listening.”

Liam blushes at this new information. He knew that Stiles really did care about him, but he always figured he saw him as Scott’s burden.

“How about we stop talking about the men from your pasts?” Isaac suggests, obviously getting insecure by the reminiscent expressions on his girlfriends’ faces.

“He was like a brother to us.” Lydia reassures him, without much urgency. They’ve all learned that Isaac’s feelings can be hurt if you forget to say good morning to him and it’s usually best to offer an apology and move on to his next complaint.

“I’m sure.” Isaac huffs and busies himself with his food.

“We should get going.” Brett wipes his mouth and gets to his feet. His actions are mirrored by both Liam and Isaac.

“We’ll hold down the fort.” Allison looks like the picture of strength as she kisses Isaac, briefly, and pulls Brett into a one-armed hug. Liam sees her whisper something into his ear and he feels a prick of irritation.

He really admires Allison and how she’s kept the others safe this whole time, and despite it being hard for him to keep the mutants a secret from Isaac, he has to admit that he’d do the same in her place. If he could protect Brett from the knowledge of what’s really out there, he would do it without a second thought. _Still . . ._ _I wish they’d let me into their little circle. He’s not my leader._

Despite the thought, he knows it’s not completely true. He definitely has been deferring to Brett a lot lately.

_You’re just jealous that he has secrets with her. Stop being a baby._

The goodbyes are short and unceremonious. They’ve all come to the conclusion that long, drawn out, emotional goodbyes every time someone needs to go out only serve to make them all anxious and would probably lead to their early graves.

“Keep them safe out there.” Lydia kisses Liam’s cheek, but he doesn’t go red this time.

He simply smiles back at her and mumbles, “Of course.”

Brett seems impressed by the composure he’s taken the affection with, but Liam pretends not to notice. His walls are starting to come down here, especially with Lydia, and he’s not sure how okay he is with it. _It feels nice at least_.

“Let’s get a move on.” Brett claps him on the shoulder and kisses the top of his head as they head for the door.

* * *

“If you try to put another scarf on me, you’re going to eat it.” Liam shoves Isaac off of him.

“Take his threats seriously.” Brett cautions, but that doesn’t stop him from continuing to pick out clothes for Liam himself. _Anything’s better than scarves._

Speaking of which, Isaac has four wrapped around his neck and Liam’s sweating just looking at him.

“This one?” Brett holds up a grey crewneck sweatshirt. Liam examines it and nods. He’d expected it to say ‘ _Princess’_ in sequins on the back, given Brett’s track record so far. The older boy folds it neatly and stows it away in his backpack. “Isaac, go find some extra socks for everyone.”

“Of course I get sock detail.” Isaac mutters, but disappears in the direction of underwear and socks anyway, discarding the scarves on the way.

Liam glances around, checking their corners for the hundredth time in the past minute. He doesn’t like the layout of the Target they’re currently ransacking for clothing. Too many places for things to hide and not enough open room to maneuver if they’re caught off guard.

Usually he trusts Brett’s instincts and reflexes to keep them safe, but the older boy looks more exhausted with every step he takes. Liam didn’t notice until they’d already been walking for almost an hour, but Brett’s clearly struggling to keep his composure.

That didn’t stop him from easily dispatching the only biters they ran into, before Isaac or Liam could even react to their presence.

_He was sloppy though. He didn’t move like he usually does._

“Brett . . .” The word trails off on his tongue. He’s not sure what he wants to say and he wants to avoid upsetting the older boy. It’s strange to be in this position; like their roles are reversed. “You should sit down.”

“I’m fine.” Brett waves him off. “What size jeans do you wear?” He holds out a pair that’s they both know are Liam’s size.

_He’s dodging._

“We didn’t come here for jeans.” He says dryly, calling Brett on his diversion. “Seriously, you look like you’re about to keel over. Can you sit for a second?”

Brett ignores him and drops the denim to the ground, moving away to another clothing rack. _At least this time he’s pretending to look at winter clothing._

“You’re kind of being a dick.” Liam informs him. He steps up to his side and refuses to back off until Brett glances at him in annoyance.

“I’m tired and you’re dragging your ass.” He snaps. “Maybe if you helped look we could move a little faster.”

Liam stares at the side of Brett’s face, trying to understand his irritability. He can’t and he knows that a fight could be disastrous out in the open, so he does the smart thing _for once_ and walks away.

“Problem?” Isaac asks, stuffing his backpack with packages of socks. He doesn’t look up as Liam approaches and that annoys the younger boy. _I’m the only one who’s paying any fucking attention around here._

“No.” He lies.

Isaac levels him with a challenge.

“Brett’s a dick.” He elaborates, sighing and sitting cross-legged on the ground. “He’s falling apart over there and he won’t let me help him.”

“So you left him alone?” Isaac questions.

“It was that or kill him.”

“He seemed jumpy.” Isaac disregards Liam’s petulant statement. “We should call it a day. Allison and I will come back tomorrow.”

Liam doesn’t object. He doesn’t agree either. _No way is Brett going to agree to leave when we’re already here._

“Are you alright, mate?” Isaac suddenly asks, eyeing Liam cautiously. “You look a little worn yourself.”

“I’m cool.” He tries to shrug off the interest. “Just worried.”

“He’ll be fine.” Isaac squeezes Liam’s shoulder, judging the action to be acceptable when Liam doesn’t pull away. “He’s tough . . . is everything else good between the two of you?”

“Yeah.” Liam shrugs. “I guess . . . He’s not telling me something and it’s eating at him.” He knows he needs to be careful with the truth around Isaac and he’s got a feeling that whatever’s bothering Brett has to do with his and Allison’s secrets. _Which are probably about those creepy fucking things_.

“You don’t know what?”

“Nope.” Liam presses his lips together. _There’s more secrets around this place than you know._ He briefly toys with the idea of telling Isaac about the mutant zombies, but the thought of betraying Allison’s trust is unbearable.

“Can’t be that bad.” The curly haired boy tries to comfort Liam, rubbing his arm and squeezing again. “It’s gonna be alright, you know that, yeah?”

“Yeah.” He agrees, sighing. “I guess. Thanks.” He meets Isaac’s eyes and acknowledges the concern there. He’s grateful to have Isaac around, but he can’t help his thoughts from continually drifting back to wondering what’s eating at Brett.

“Anytime, shorty.” Isaac smiles at him and Liam returns it, without much feeling. “Let’s get back to him.”

They find Brett stowing Lydia’s requested North Face into his backpack. Liam only left him a minute ago and he already has the bag filled to near bursting.

“Brett.” Isaac jogs ahead, clapping Brett on the back. “We’re gonna head back now, mate.”

Brett squints at Isaac in confusion. “What?” His eyes flicker to Liam. “No. We haven’t gotten everything on Lydia’s list yet.”

“Aye, but I don’t know how much longer I can hold out.” Liam watches as Isaac lies without a hitch. “Haven’t been getting much sleep lately, you know?”

There’s concern on Brett’s face, but it vanishes when he catches sight of Liam.

_Way to go, Dunbar. Maybe it’s time to get some poker face training._

“You two go back.” Brett moves on to the next rack of clothing, searching through it without a purpose. Liam’s stomach turns at the way his hands move; with shaky determination.

“B.” Liam takes a step, but doesn’t close the gap between them. He’s never seen Brett look this conflicted or close to the edge.

“I,” Isaac begins, looking between them and taking a few steps backwards, “Am going to let the two of you talk this out.” He squeezes Liam’s arm encouragingly as he passes by.

They stand in silence, both trying to put their thoughts together in a way that will make sense to the other. Liam doesn’t even know how to make his own thoughts make sense to himself, but he has to try.

“What did you want to tell me?” He blurts. _It’s the only thing that could be making him act like this._ _Unless he’s about to tell me that the secret he and Allison are hiding is that they’re fucking and he’s done with me. That . . . wouldn’t really be a shock, I guess._

“This isn’t the place.” Brett won’t look at him.

“It’s not.” He agrees and drops his eyes to the ground. His fists are clenched and his knuckles are white, but he doesn’t know what else to do with his hands. “But it has to be.”

“You can’t wait until we get back?” Brett snaps, suddenly looking up. “You really need to do this now? This is putting Isaac’s life in danger too, you realize that right?”

“I’m not the one causing the problem.” Liam forces himself to hold Brett’s gaze and keep his voice steady. Which is not an easy job seeing as this is the first time Brett’s been upset with him since he faked it when they were held by Peter. _He’s not faking it this time. Something I did pissed him off. Badly._

“You’re the one forcing it.”

“Can you just fucking talk to me?” He doesn’t let the tears fall. If Brett’s dumping him because of the dog or Allison or whatever reason, he’s not going to cry.

Something changes in Brett’s expression. He seems to remember himself and wipes a hand across his face, which softens a bit in the process.

“Calm down.” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I’m really not trying to make you upset. Believe me, that’s the last thing I want.”

_He’s actually doing it._ The realization comes to Liam and it feels like the floor’s dropped out beneath him. He constantly tortures himself with the idea of Brett leaving him, but he’s always been able to rationalize it away by recalling that he’s a pessimist who likes to torture himself. _But now . . ._

“I was hoping we could talk at home, you know?” Brett continues on, oblivious to Liam’s entire world collapsing. “This isn’t really private.”

It’s the gentleness in Brett’s tone that really makes it hurt. _At least be an asshole and give me something to be angry at._

“Could be worse places, I guess.” He lets out a breath and gives Liam a half-smile. He’s never wanted to hate that smile so much. “At least I can finally get Lydia off my back.”

It’s the final betrayal that ignites the dry glow of anger deep inside of Liam’s core.

“Fuck you.” He spits, restraining himself from lurching forwards and decking Brett as hard as he can. His stomach revolts at the thought of striking him, but his skin is itching for it in anticipation.

“What?” Brett looks completely caught off guard. “Li?”

“Don’t call me that.” All he can picture is Brett with Allison, with Lydia, with Violet, laughing at him behind his back.

_“He is my best friend. I do love him, but I love myself and Violet more.”_ He can almost hear Garrett’s words leaving Brett’s mouth with grotesque ease.

“Liam, hold up a sec.” Brett holds his hands out and steps closer, signaling peace, but Liam will die before he accepts it. “I don’t know what you think-”

“Take another step and you’re going to regret it.” Liam assures him, a violent smile cracking along his lips.

Brett stops. He doesn’t move for what feels like a century and the anticipation burns Liam inside and out, but right before he’s about to act on the burn – either to run or attack, he isn’t sure – Brett speaks again, softly.

“Liam, you’re having an attack. I need you to listen to me, okay? I made a mistake and I should’ve told you sooner, but I don’t think you understand.”

“I understand.” He snarls. Every muscle in his body is wound tightly, ready to explode in an instant, but Brett’s blue eyes are locked on him and somehow he can’t bring himself to move under their scrutiny.

“You don’t.” Brett promises. “Please, Liam. Just listen to me so I can explain? You can hit me afterwards if you need to, but please just listen.”

It’s the desperation in Brett’s eyes, he realizes later on, that broke through to him.

A flutter of doubt is all it is, but it’s enough to temporarily quench his rage and let his proper faculties regain control of his body – if only on the surface.

“Talk.”

“I found Lithium.” It takes Liam a minute to process exactly what Brett had said. The three words sound foreign in their argument. They don’t make any sense no matter what way he puts them together, until Brett bites his lip and shakes his head. “Lydia wanted me to tell you, but I wasn’t sure how to. I should’ve just come out with it.”

_Lydia_. It’s the bridge he needs to cross back over and piece it all together so that a coherent thought is formed.

“I should’ve told you.” Brett’s apologetic tone finally strikes Liam as sincere. “I just . . . didn’t know how. I’m not a psychiatrist and I don’t know what they’ll do to you.”

“Lithium?” His mind is wrapped around the word, recalling images of orange bottles and the dry, bitter taste.

“Yeah.” Brett inches closer to him, “I should have told you.”

Liam’s vision blurs at the edges and he suddenly feels as tired as Brett looks.

“Can I sit?” He asks dumbly, grabbing onto a rack of clothes for stability. All vestiges of his anger shrivel into nothing and with it goes whatever energy he has left.

“Yeah.” Brett’s arm slides under his shoulders and he helps him over to a chair outside of the nearest dressing room. “Are you okay?” He’s kneeling in front of Liam now, hands on the younger boy’s thighs.

“‘M fine.” Liam mumbles, his eyes stuck on Brett’s strong hands. Their grip on his thighs is tight, but he’s thankful for the stability they offer.

“Can you talk to me?” Brett’s looking up at him, beseechingly. “I don’t know what to do.”

_The sun, the moon, the truth._

He can’t respond to Brett until he’s got himself together and he only knows two ways to do that. This one doesn’t involve bashing anyone’s face in.

_The sun, the moon, the truth._ Liam’s able to control his breathing and Brett seems to understand that he’s composing himself, so he doesn’t push; instead he just holds onto his legs and waits. _The sun, the moon, the truth._

“The sun,” Brett’s hands find his and squeeze.

“The moon,” He squeezes back, thankful for the touch. It helps ground him.

“The truth.”

They repeat the words countless times and Liam’s hands stop shaking at some point. He doesn’t even realize that he’s shut his eyes until his head stops spinning. He opens them.

“I’m sorry.” Brett whispers. _He looks like he just got his ass kicked_.

“I thought you were dumping me.” Liam cracks a weak smile, but immediately kicks himself for the confession. “That’s . . . sorry.”

Brett seems to sober a bit and he returns the smile, but there’s a melancholy set to his lips that tears at Liam’s gut.

“I wouldn’t do that.” He reassures him, clutching his hands. “This is all my fault. I should have just told you when I found the fucking things.”

“You found my pills?” Liam asks. The prospect hasn’t really sunk in on him yet, but he’s not even sure he wants it to. He’s never been any good at making important decisions and _this_ seems like a monster decision.

“Lithium, right?” Brett waits for his nod, but the look in his eyes tells Liam that it’s unnecessary. “Two bottles back in Boston. I didn’t know how to tell you.”

Liam takes a deep breath, trying to warp his head around that. He can’t blame Brett for not telling him – _he’s had a front row seat to all of my recent screw ups_. Garrett would’ve just tossed the pills out and never mentioned it, but Brett’s always breaking from established patterns. He’s not sure how he feels about that. _It leaves you with a choice. Don’t fuck it up._

“Do you think I should take them?”

“I don’t know.” Brett’s eyes drift to the scar on his arm. It’s scabbed and pink. He’s been trying not to pick at it when Brett’s looking, but sometimes he can’t help it. In the back of his mind he knows that picking at a scab will leave a worse scar and the thought gives him a guilty rush.

“They worked pretty good before.”

“I can’t choose for you.” There’s grief on Brett’s face.

“I make bad choices.” He lifts his arm a bit and tries to lighten the mood. “As you can see.”

Brett shakes his head at him and takes a steadying breath. “Funny. Listen . . . are you gonna be alright to walk back? We should talk this over somewhere safe.”

“I’ll be fine.” Liam proves his point by getting to his feet with minimal wobbling. “Promise.”

“Okay.” Brett’s hands linger on him, like he’s afraid he’ll fall apart when he lets go. Liam feels guilty about that.

_He thinks I’m weak. He’s afraid I’ll crack again . . . am I going to crack again?_

_No. Not now. Not in front of him._

He thinks about the contents of the little orange bottle and the neutralizing effect they have on his mind. _He wouldn’t have to worry_.

“Let’s finish up here.” His step falters as a scream pierces the relative silence.

It’s such a bizarre sound that it takes Liam a moment to recognize that it was real. Once he’s done that he immediately thinks of Isaac and panics, but realization that it’s a woman’s voice dawns shortly after.

He looks at Brett and there’s a mutual understanding born of survival in their eyes. They both rush for the exit, grouping up with Isaac along the way.

“Any idea where it came from?” Isaac peers around the parking lot, like he expects a herd of biters to come lumbering through. _Which isn’t really out of the realm of possibility._

“There.” Brett’s moving before the word has left his mouth. Liam’s surprised by how quickly he’s able to run while carrying the loaded backpack and still being very obviously fatigued.

He and Isaac struggle to keep up with him, but the source of the scream becomes very apparent as they cross the empty lot.

It’s not a herd, necessarily, _but that’s still a shit ton of zombies_.

“We need to help them.” He can just barely make out two people being corralled by the biters outside of a shopping complex across the street. A blonde girl – who he’s assuming was the screamer – and a dark haired guy using his body as a barrier to keep her away from the encroaching biters.

“Or we need to run.” Isaac suggests without conviction.

Brett looks at Liam and for a second he’s certain that the brown haired boy’s going to shut him down and say there’s nothing they can do, but then his principles override his fears and he nods.

“Isaac, watch Liam’s back. Liam-”

“Cover your ass.” He nods and the three of them start moving again, crossing the street and approaching the scene with caution.

Brett takes point, wielding his machete, while Liam flanks him with Isaac’s axe and Isaac brings up the rear, hefting a metal bat. Liam’s got the pistol at his waist, but he knows better than to use it unless it’s necessary. Looking at the number of biters they’re dealing with, he’s not certain that it won’t be necessary.

“Hey!” Brett hollers as they get closer, getting the attention of the people and the zombies. “Liam.”

“On it.” Liam breaks ranks while Brett distracts the closest biters. He sees Brett take a swing at the closest one and cleave its face in half, before he and Isaac disappear behind the crush of reanimated bodies.

A large chunk of zombies split off from the main body to pursue Liam’s friends, giving the two strangers an opening to escape – and Liam’s on hand to assist with that.

Now that he’s closer he can see the pair a little clearer and something about them strikes him as familiar, but their dirt-coated faces are impossible to place.

They catch sight of him and the opening, but the biters are closing in on them and as swiftly as their path to safety was paved, it’s washed away in a tide of corpses.

“Fuck.” Liam spits in frustration and searches for a new tactic. Ignoring Brett’s cautionary voice in his head he thrusts his body into the mix and manages to land a few clean blows against rotting skulls, dropping three zombies before his axe gets stuck and he needs to fall back.

He only gets one step before a biter – whose face looks like it was melted off – lunges for him a little too quickly and manages to knock him to the ground.

Its putrid body comes down hard on top of him, hissing and snarling in his face. The stench of its breath almost makes him puke, but he’s able to keep it down and slip his forearm against its throat. He forces its head back before it can sink its black teeth into him, but its heavy and he can’t push it any further.

The axe is still stuck in the side of a biter’s head and he can’t reach the gun, while also preventing the damned thing from taking a bite out of him. He hasn’t realized how exhausted he is until now, while trying to force the two hundred pound monster off of him.

His eyes flicker to its face. Once it was a young man, solidly built and probably not terrible looking before it started to decompose. Still, there’s plenty of muscle holding it together and that’s what’s giving Liam so much trouble.

It bites forward and Liam can almost feel its teeth tearing into his face, but he manages to force it back. He tries to get his knee underneath it, but it’s too heavy and the farthest he gets is to half-prop it off of him.

One moment he’s struggling to hold it back, teeth bared in the struggle and heart pounding against his chest; and the next the axe materializes in the side of its head, painting the front of his shirt in black ichor.

It goes limp and he’s able to slide out from under it.

“Liam.” He looks up, expecting to see Isaac, but instead comes face to face with Corey.

He looks grim, but he’s offering his hand.

“Corey?”

“We need to go.” He clasps Liam’s forearm and pulls him to his feet. After a moment of hesitation, he returns the axe.

“Liam!” Brett calls in desperation.

The two older boys managed to thin out their group, but there’s too many of them and they’re struggling to hold back the remainder.

Further down the road Liam sees something which makes his throat seize up and his blood run cold. _A herd. As in a real fucking herd. As in at least a hundred hungry zombies staggering their way towards them._

“Liam!” Corey gives his arm a shake. “We can’t just stand here. Let’s go.”

_Pull it together, Dunbar._ He jerks his arm away from Corey and pulls the gun free from his waist. In a flash he drops the biter that’s closest to Brett, which gives him the space he needs to cut down the two that had been trying to snack on Isaac.

“Get her inside the mall.” He gives the order to Corey after briefly assessing them for injuries or weapons. Neither is hurt and neither is armed. _Liabilities._ “Second floor, find roof access.”

There’s no time to wait for a reaction, he rushes towards Brett and Isaac. _No hesitation,_ he lectures himself. There’s an actual herd on its way towards them and they all need to get off the street before they’re lunch.

His aim’s gotten better since Allison began training him with the bow and that’s proven when he fires off two more shots. Both end in exploded skulls and dead biters.

“This way!” He holsters the gun and uses the axe to neutralize two stragglers. The gunshots will be drawing all of the biters within listening distance to them – if they weren’t already on their way – and there’s no time to waste.

Brett acknowledges his plan with a glance and returns to trying to free himself and Isaac from their predicament. Liam barrels towards them, carving a path as he drops another two zombies with relative ease.

Isaac cracks open the head of a biter that’d been trying to flank Brett, before the pair of them are able to break through and join Liam – heading towards the mall. After getting inside they spend a minute tipping over the candy machines and pushing benches in front of the glass doors. It won’t stop a herd, but it’ll slow the flow of them.

“Up here!” Corey calls from the second floor walkway, waving his arms.

The trio find the nearest broken-down escalator and climb to the second floor, where they find Corey holding open a door. Liam’s got to admit that the kid’s done a good job when the five of them are standing on the roof of the mall after following a series of maintenance hallways.

“What now?” Corey’s looking at Isaac distrustfully.

Liam shoots the girl a similar look.

“Fire escapes are a hell of a thing.” Brett grins, clapping Liam on the arm. “Good job, Li.”

“Learned from the best.” He mumbles, blushing under the pride in Brett’s eyes.

“Now we wait until most of the herd is inside.” Brett continues, speaking mostly to Isaac. “Then we can slip away and rule out coming back any time soon.”

“Is it safe to wait here?” Corey speaks up.

“You’re welcome.” Isaac states pointedly, eyeing the pair.

Corey glares back at Isaac, but speaks to Liam. “Who is he?”

“Who is _he_?” Isaac says, indignantly.

“Isaac, Corey. Corey, Isaac.” Liam hurries through the introductions.

“The sun, the moon, the truth.” Liam had heard the girl muttering before, but he’s finally able to make out her words. “The sun, the moon, the truth.”

_What?_

“Carrie.” Corey turns – ending his standoff with Isaac – to where she’s crouched down and clasping her hands together – _no wait . . . she only has one hand_ – and chanting.

Liam looks to Brett to see what he thinks about their new charges, but his eyes are glued to the blonde haired girl and his mouth is hanging open.

“Carrie.” Brett repeats after Corey.

Her head snaps up at the sound of his voice, her hysterical state shattered. “Brett?” She asks doubtfully.

“Holy shit, Carrie.”  He moves to her side and kneels, resting a hand against her shoulder and taking in her maimed appearance. “What the hell happened to you?”

Brett probably doesn’t notice the way she’d leaned in for a hug, but Liam sure as hell does.

He recognizes her now after hearing her name for the third time. _Carrie Hudson._ She’s one of Peter’s kids; a few years older than himself and probably the only one in the bunch who smiled at him whenever she saw him.

Despite never speaking to her he always had a vaguely good impression.

She seems to sober with Brett so close and looks down at her hand – nub? – self-consciously.

“Got bit.” She takes a steadying breath and tries to get to her feet. Brett holds her up when she stumbles and keeps a supportive arm around her. “We had to amputate it.”

“Shit, Carrie.” He breathes, then seems to remember the others. “This is Carrie, Li. She was one of the kids that Satomi fostered before me and Lor.”

_More girls from Brett’s past,_ his mind thinks petulantly.

_Another girl from his and my past,_ he reminds himself.

“I’m Liam.” He awkwardly offer his hand for a shake, then freezes when he realized he’d offer his right hand her own is missing. He quickly switches, but it elicits a giggle from her and she rolls her eyes, while shaking it.

“I know.” Whatever resentment he’d held towards her melts away in the presence of her smile. “Carrie.”

He examines her, briefly. She’s battered and bruised, covered in dirt and missing a hand, but she doesn’t seem to be injured in any way that merits immediate attention.

_Satomi._ He pictures this girl growing up under the same roof that would later house Brett. They couldn’t have known each other for long, considering she’d moved to Beacon Hills and hooked up with Peter’s crew, but Satomi clearly had a big impact on her life.

_The sun, the moon, the truth._ He feels jealousy coil around his insides, possessively wanting to claim the chant as his and Brett’s, but he shakes it off. There’s nothing threatening or challenging about this girl at all.

“These introductions are riveting, really, but I’d appreciate an explanation.” Isaac butts in. “I assume the biter bait’s the one you told us about? Whose group you ran from because they were going to kill the both of you?”

“Corey helped us escape.” Brett says, unexpectedly coming to his defense. “And Carrie’s an old friend. They’re cool, Isaac.”

“Doesn’t explain why they’re here.” Liam’s eyes fall on Corey with accusatory expectation. “What happened Corey?”

“I’m sorry.” He looks back and forth between Liam and Brett, confirming Liam’s suspicions. “I . . . I told Peter.”

Brett meets Liam’s eyes, but there’s no _“I told you so”_ , just resignation.

_I can’t believe I trusted you._ The betrayal feels like a knife plunged into his gut, but it’s the thought of Brett being upset with him that twists it deeper. _I should have listened to him. Telling Corey was stupid and now everything’s at risk._

“So what’re you doing here?” Brett asks, apparently more composed than Liam, who’d just been about to demand how he could have betrayed them like this.

“Did Peter leave you behind after you served your purpose?” He glares at Corey with open hostility.

“Liam . . .” Brett touches his arm.

“It’s not like that.” Corey cries, grabbing onto Carrie’s surviving hand. “I wouldn’t have told him if I had a choice. We had no food and Boyd was sick, we needed somewhere safe to go, somewhere with food and medicine . . . he promised he wouldn’t hurt either of you . . .”

“You believed him?” Liam huffs.

He notices that Brett’s watching him, not Corey, with his arms folded and a grim expression set on his face.

Corey glances at Carrie, then turns back to Liam with determination in his eyes. “I didn’t have any other options.”

“You still haven’t answered why you’re here.”

“We left when we found out that Peter was going to kill him.” He looks at Brett. “We came to warn you.”

“You did a good job of that.” Isaac lifts his brows and gestures to their surroundings. “How’d you know we’d be taking a relaxing stroll through the local zombie infested malls?”

“We’re trying our best.” He defends.

“It doesn’t matter anymore.” Brett cuts off Liam’s retort. “We need to get back to the loft.”

“No.” Corey argues. “He’s knows it’s in Cambridge, if you go there he’ll find you.”

“We’ve got friends.” Brett says, dismissing any ideas Corey had of the five of them running. “Thanks for the warning. You guys should run, but we need to go back for them.”

“We can’t survive on our own.” Corey says, wincing as glass shatters somewhere below them.

“So we should take you in?” Liam’s nose crinkles up at them. “Why would we do that after you turned on us?”

“Liam.” Brett’s tone is hard and the hand which clasps his wrist is equally hard. “Being angry isn’t going to fix anything. We need to get back to the girls, before it’s too late.”

Brett’s words sober him up a bit. He glares at Corey for a few more seconds, before nodding.

That’s when Liam sees it.

“Brett.” He chokes.

“You alright?” Brett turns to look in the same direction and Liam can feel the moment when he sees it too, just standing there; watching them.

“Liam, get back.” Brett shoves him backwards and steps in between him and the four armed creature; the machete out in a flash.

It stares at the group, dumbly, like it doesn’t quite recognize them as food. A second later a hand grasps the buildings ledge and Liam’s overwhelmed by the image of more of those things scaling the side of the mall from all directions.

A head peers over the side of the building.

“What the hell is that?” Isaac looks even more shaken than Liam – and he doesn’t even know what these things are capable of yet.

“Liam, get them out of here.” Brett’s voice is low, but Liam can hear the wobble in it. “Now!”

The sudden spike in volume gets the creature’s attention and it lets out a bloodcurdling shriek, before rushing at Brett.

“What the fuck?”

Liam can’t move. Someone screams. There’s commotion all around him and suddenly he hits the ground: hard.

“Isaac!” Brett’s moving and slashing the machete, but the second creature joins the fray and it slams him into him like a lineman. They vanish from Liam’s sight.

“Liam!” Someone’s shaking him. He looks up to see Corey, tears in his eyes as he looks around them. “Liam! Do something!”

_Do something?_

_Brett._

_An explosion of guts and the weight of a zombie on top of him. “Should’ve checked your corners.” The barrel of a gun staring him down, the hand holding it screams of betrayal and heartbreak. A better hand, large and wrapped around his own, pulling him through back alleys and streets filled with the moans of the damned. Discarded candy bars litter the floor, those same hands don’t seek permission as they roam his neck in a frantic search. A once beautiful girl bearing down on him, before she’s ended by a flash of metal and a familiar stroke. Pain in his arm. My fault. But his responsibility . . . no. Not anymore._

His body acts while his mind is still reeling with images of a warehouse, of lies and secrets kept out of concern. He’s on his feet, ignoring Corey and suddenly standing over Brett and the biter.

The axe comes down on the back of the biters neck and the creature spasms, before rolling off of Brett. Unexpectedly it stays down.

He blanks out and suddenly Brett’s gripping his shoulders and trying to get him to focus. There black goop in his hair, but no bite marks.

“Liam!”

“Yeah?” The world comes crashing back in a rush of sound. There’s a crash and the sound of metal being bent, someone’s crying, someone’s groaning, Brett’s shaking and breathing heavily in his face.

“I need you to snap out of it.” The urgency in Brett’s eyes beckons to him, creating a need to listen. “For me, yeah? I need you.”

_He needs me . . ._

He shakes his head, trying to clear out the fog. “Yeah- shit, of course.”

There’s a relieved smile on Brett’s face, but it doesn’t last.

“Isaac.” He points Liam to where their friend’s lying on the ground, clutching his arm and trying to suppress his pained moans. Liam’s heart stops. “He’s not bit.” Brett assures him, “His shoulder might be dislocated, but he’ll make it. Get him down the fire escape. Can you do that?”

He nods, but looks at Brett with a question.

“I’ll be right behind you. Promise.”

Then he’s moving towards the door to help Corey and Carrie hold it shut, against what appears to be a growing force of zombies on the other side.

“Liam, go!”

“Right.” He scrambles to his feet and hurries over to Isaac, skirting around the discarded corpse of the second mutant.

“Liam?” Isaac smiles at him, “Glad you came back to us.”

“Let’s go.” He helps Isaac get his good arm around his shoulders and pulls him up. “How’s the shoulder feel?”

“I would’ve preferred a bite.” Isaac jokes darkly, earning a smile and a shake of the head.

 The fire escape is rusted and wobbly, but there’s no biters on the ground below and that’s a huge relief.

“He’ll be right behind us.” Isaac assures Liam, as the pair make slow progress down the steps.

They reach the bottom and Isaac’s right – something Liam will never say out loud – Brett’s following after them a moment later. He’s carrying the blonde girl in his arms and shoving Corey ahead of them.

“Go!” Brett yells as they barrel down the stairs

Liam looks up. The herd must be pouring out onto the roof, because there’s at least a dozen biters peering down from the ledge as a few begin to lumber after Brett down the fire escape.

Then Liam sees another one.

It’s staring directly at him, with its head tilted to the side. This one only has two arms, but it looks more muscled and less decayed than most of the others – even its face has barely begun to sag. What gives it away is the third leg, forcing it to squat a bit.

Then it jumps.

Brett yells for them to run again as it flashes by him and hits the ground with a crack.

Liam hears bones snapping and the ugly sound of flesh slapping against pavement. Yet the creature simply uprights itself with a shudder and tilts its head the other way.

He tries to make a break for it, but he can’t move fast enough while also supporting Isaac’s weight.

Isaac is ripped from his grasp a moment later and Liam wheels around, ready to chop one of its heads off before it can bite his friend. But he’s caught off guard to find that it isn’t trying to eat Isaac, in fact it’s completely discarded him off to the side.

He swings the axe, but it dodges and then lunges at him.

Liam’s back slams into the ground and the wind’s knocked out of him in a whoosh.

“Liam!” Brett calls, but he’s too far away to do anything.

Liam struggles, but the thing has an iron grip around his neck. Yellow teeth snap at him, but he’s able to get the axe between them and imbed it into the things chest. It doesn’t kill it or even slow it, but it does give Liam enough leverage to keep it off of him.

He catches sight of the eyes and a shiver runs through his body. The eyes of the biters are always disconcerting, glazed over and milky with no sign of sentience, but this thing . . . its eyes are clear, with large pupils that stare down at him, hauntingly. It doesn’t appear rabid like the others, but . . . calm.

_I’m going to die._

* * *

**Brett’s POV**

_No._

The world holds its breath as the creature’s head snaps down and Liam vanishes underneath it.

Brett’s feet pound against the pavement; taking him closer and closer to Liam, but not fast enough. It’s clear that the younger boy is still struggling, but a bite wouldn’t stop Liam from fighting.

He doesn’t realize he’s dropped Carrie, but she’s no longer in his arms. Instead he’s wielding the machete, his hand wrapped tightly around the hilt. Even without her added weight he’s still to slow and the thing lunges down again.

“Hey!” Isaac enters Brett’s line of sight – which has now narrowed to Liam and his immediate surroundings.

The mutant turns to look at him just as he swings the bat with one hand and takes it right underneath the jaw. There’s a sickening snap and its neck bends at an angle that makes Brett’s stomach turn.

It doesn’t kill it though. That’s obvious when its head slowly spins back to look at Isaac, with that now trademark off-putting stare.

What it does do is give Brett the time he needs to close the gap.

Before it can make its next move, he sweeps in from behind and slashes at the back of its thigh. It lets out a shrill screech and tilts its head back. Liam seizes the opportunity to rip his axe free of the things chest and plant it right through the center of its skull.

Brett follows up, swiftly decapitating it.

The body slumps off to the side and goes into a series of death spasms.

“What . . . was . . . that?” Isaac’s breathing heavy and openly gaping at the deceased mutant.

“Ask Allison.” Brett says shortly, kneeling by Liam’s side to search him for bite marks.

“I’m fine.” He smiles – far too brightly for Brett’s comfort.

“Liam-” His fingers wipe the black ichor off of Liam’s neck, making certain that there’s no open wound or teeth marks.

Liam hand is warm when it finds his and squeezes. “I’m fine, B. I promise. Let’s get out of here.”

Brett glances back to where Corey’s holding Carrie in his arms, trying to calm her down with gentle assurances.

_It’s too late. If we’d had time I could have amputated the leg . . . but when I saw that thing over Liam . . . she’s going to die._

“We need to go.” Isaac is glaring at Brett with suspicion, but he seems more concerned with the way a dozen biters have managed to make it halfway down the fire escape. A few others just toppled themselves over the ledge and splattered against the ground – but unlike the mutant they smashed like watermelons against the pavement.

“We’ve got another problem.” Brett informs the both of them, eyes roaming Liam again just to be certain.

Then he looks at Carrie.

* * *

“We’re not leaving her.” Brett’s impressed with the strength in Liam’s voice, especially after the day he’s already had.

“Well we can’t rightly sit here and wait for our mates to come back can we?” Isaac argues, worriedly glancing out the windows of the restaurant they’ve taken refuge in.

Brett’s equally impressed with how well he’s holding up, especially after the way he’d screamed when Brett popped his shoulder back into place.

Liam doesn’t answer, he just follows Brett’s gaze to where Carrie’s lying down on one of the tables; Corey seated at her side and trying to comfort the dying girl.

The bite in her leg is bad, even without the inevitability of her turning, it would need immediate medical attention. Brett had to make do with a tourniquet.

_We don’t even have any painkillers for her._

Her whimpers are starting to shake his nerves.

“Isaac’s right.” Brett keeps a flat expression when Liam looks to him in confusion. “We don’t know how many more of those _things_ are out there.” They all know he doesn’t mean the biters.

“We can’t leave her.” He doesn’t sound as strong this time; his voice wavers and he’s looking to Brett for guidance – despite arguing against him.

“We’re not.” He makes up his mind with a grim determination. “Isaac, take Liam outside. I’ll be right behind you.”

Isaac nods in understanding and takes Liam by the shoulders, but the smaller boy shakes him loose and steps closer to Brett.

“What’re you doing?” Then, when realization sets in. “You can’t. You don’t kill.”

“I don’t have a choice.” He sets his mind on sounding resolved, on portraying confidence, on being Liam’s certainty. He doesn’t do so well. “Look, Li . . . it’s not murder. Right? She’s dying.”

“That . . .” Liam leaves his mouth hanging open, wordlessly, but behind his eyes there’s a storm. “Let me then.”

All Brett wanted was for Liam to assure him that no, it isn’t murder. No way in hell is he going to let Liam do it himself.

“I can do it.” He says, reaching out to touch Liam’s face. There’s a blossoming bruise around his neck from where the mutant had grabbed him. “I’ll be alright. Just wait outside, yeah?”

“C’mon, mate.” Isaac gently replaces his hands on Liam, “He’s right.”

Liam doesn’t say anything or put up a fight as Isaac steers him out of the restaurant, but he stares at Brett with wide eyes the entire time and that’s almost enough to sap Brett of his will. All he wants to do now is run, but he won’t leave Carrie, he won’t leave one of Satomi’s kids to a fate like this.

Squashing his reservations, Brett turns his attention to the unexpected pair. Corey’s got tears in his eyes as he whispers comforting words to Carrie. For her part, she looks almost like a zombie already.

_“Some people seem to take to the bite quicker.”_ Cora’s voice is clear in his mind. The first solid piece of her he’s had in a month. _“There’s nothing you can do for them.” She’d declared it with sullen gravity to the gathered crowd of college students. “Except a quick death.”_

_A quick death._

He wordlessly sits on the other side of the table and takes Carrie’s hand. It’s warm, but not like Liam’s heat, not that barely contained fire underneath his skin; it’s the fever. Her skin is clammy and a sickly-sweet smell hangs heavily in the air around them.

She’s mumbling complete nonsense, already losing herself to the fever. _It won’t be long before she dies._ He knows they can’t wait for her to go on her own, – even without a herd of biters somewhere outside – some people don’t reanimate for a few hours; with others it only takes a minute.

“Corey.” He speaks over her, but she’s oblivious to the sound of his voice.

He looks up with red rimmed eyes and swallows back the tears.

“Go wait outside.”

Corey stares at him with a blank expression for a few seconds, before looking back to Carrie.

“Let me help.”

“I can do it.” He turns the machete over in his hand and tries to imagine human blood on the blade.

_It’s not murder if she’s already dying. It’s a mercy . . . Satomi would approve of mercy._

“Carrie?” Her name falls heavily from his tongue.

Her face twitches a bit, but her eyes stay shut and she doesn’t turn to look at him.

Tears well up in Brett’s eyes. He wishes he has more time to talk to her, ask about Satomi and how she got mixed up with Peter in the first place, but he doesn’t. _I don’t because I failed to protect her . . . just like Cora, if I’d only been faster . . ._

“Brett.” He didn’t even notice when Corey came to stand at his side. His hand finds Brett’s on the hilt. It’s rougher than he’d expect from the gentle kid. “Let me.”

“I can.” He chokes, giving a shake of his head.

“I should do it.” He meets Corey’s eyes and he feels like he’s seeing the kid for the first time. There’s strength in him where Brett had only seen weakness, and compassion that he’d mistaken for cowardice. “She was mine to protect.”

Corey’s fingers take the machete from his hand, gently. He squeezes Brett’s arm and turns to compose himself.

Carrie’s hand moves and Brett immediately takes it in his own.

“Hold on Carrie.” He whispers, smoothing a hand up her forearm. “It’s almost over.”

Her hand tightens in his. He knows better than to take it for acknowledgement, when it’s probably only a spasm of muscles.

“The sun,” He whispers, bringing images of Satomi and Lori to his mind. Of the house they’d lived in and all the kids who’d passed through before them and left – all the better for the time they’d spent with Satomi. “The moon, the truth.”

“Brett?” Her whisper is greeted with utter astonishment. Her eyes drift open and she takes in the two of them at her side. “My head kills.”

“I know.” He tries to keep his voice from cracking and shoots Corey a look. He moves out of Carrie’s vision, to the other side of the table, without a word. “Just hold on a minute, okay? We’re getting you help.”

She nods, but she’s clearly terrified and confused.

He squeezes her hand to keep her attention and holds her eyes, “Stay with me, okay? You remember Satomi’s mantra?”

She nods. “The sun . . . the moon . . . the truth.” Each word comes out belabored and scratchy.

“The sun,” He repeats.

“The moon,” She coughs.

“The truth.” He gives her his brightest smile, not wanting his grim face to be the last thing she sees.

“The sun.” She doesn’t seem to notice.

“The moon.” His eyes flicker to Corey and he nods.

“The truth.” They listen to her last words before the blade drops and she’s gone.

Brett’s smile fades.

* * *

“What the hell took you guys so long?” Allison takes them in – thinking nothing of their ragged appearances – but her expression stiffens when she sees Corey beside them. “What happened? Who is this?”

“Long story, Ally.” Isaac shakes his head and barges past the others to step into her arms and pull her in for a tight hug that lasts far too long to be mistaken as anything casual.

“Isaac.” She pulls out of his arms to look into his eyes. “Babe, what happened?” He just shakes his head and buries it back into the crook of her neck. She looks at Brett, as Lydia joins them in the living room.

“We ran into some trouble.” He begins. “And there’s more on the way now. This is Corey . . . we should talk.”

She takes in the dried human blood on Corey’s hands and the splash of it on the front of Brett’s shirt.

“Okay.” She guides Isaac to sit on the couch, “Alright. Tell us what happened.”

Brett tells the story and he tries to keep it as concise as possible, completely leaving out Liam’s blow up. Lydia and Isaac look at Allison in confusion after he reveals that they’ve known about the mutants for a while now, but for her part, she refuses to acknowledge them entirely.

She gives Brett a hard look after he spills the secret. He’s just glad that it’s out in the open now.

At some point, Zeppelin came out of his hibernation to curl up at Liam’s side. He rests his head on the younger boy’s thigh and Brett’s thankful that the dog’s there to look after him.

Liam grabs his hand when he chokes up while trying to talk about Carrie. He looks at the younger boy with gratitude. Liam nods and tries to smile at him.

“We don’t have time to be angry with each other.” Brett states firmly, catching Isaac’s eye. “Peter’s in Cambridge and it won’t be long until he finds this place.”

“What’re we supposed to do?” Lydia asks.

“Leave.” It’s the first time Corey’s spoken since they’d arrived. “None of us will survive if we stay here.”

“I’m not leaving my home.” Allison’s firm. Isaac nods in agreement and Lydia looks relieved at the decision.

Brett’s not so certain. Fighting Peter would most likely leave them all dead and if not, the chance of casualties is high – if not certain.

“We should fight.” Liam surprises Brett. “Carrie died trying to warn us.”

Brett stares at him for a minute, tracing over each curve and plane of his face.

_If we die here her sacrifice will be thrown out anyway._ He recalls what life on the run is like, the constant scrounging, the surprise biters, the looming danger of running into other people – they haven’t had to deal with that while here. _Not to mention the mutants, which are becoming more and more common._

“Okay.” He nods. “We stay then.”

“We’re all going to die.” Corey argues, trying to find a sympathetic face around the coffee table.

“Then leave.” Liam’s tone bites hard and Brett is taken aback by it.

“Liam.” He squeezes the younger boy’s hand. “He warned us.”

“He betrayed us first.”

He sees it in Liam’s eyes. He’s not mad at Corey, he’s mad at himself; because he’s the one who told Corey about the loft in the first place – _against my advice_.

“It doesn’t matter now. We need to be ready when Peter comes.” He turns to Corey. “You don’t have to stay, but we could definitely use the help.”

Corey looks at Liam and there’s an apology written clearly across his face, but Liam doesn’t acknowledge it.

“Liam’s right.” He presses his lips into a thin line. “This is my fault and I’m not going anywhere until I fix it. Just tell me what to do.”

“You a decent shot?” Allison asks. Brett can already see the wheels turning in her head.

* * *

**Liam’s POV**

“I really wish you’d stay inside.” Brett sighs at Liam for like the _billionth_ time.

“Already settled this, B.” He replies, tired of arguing with him.

“I know.” Brett turns to look at him, offering a resigned smile. “I’m nervous.”

“Me too.” Liam admits.

Understanding passes between them. This could be it for them – they might both be dead by the end of the day.

Brett’s hands are on his hips only a second before their lips collide in a tangled mess of a kiss. Brett’s tongue is everywhere, like he’s desperately trying to memorize every corner of Liam’s mouth.

He knows the others are all watching – Corey from the balcony, Allison from a nearby roof, Isaac, Lydia, and Zep from the loft’s windows – but the fact that it’s a public display doesn’t make his nerves prickle for once. _Probably because it’s the last we’re ever going to get._

“Brett, I . . .” He can’t find the words he wants, but Brett looks him in the eyes and he knows he doesn’t need to.

“I know.” The older boy’s arms tighten around him protectively and it takes all Liam has not to collapse into the embrace and lose it. But he can’t do that, not now, not when Brett needs him to be strong.

So he sets his jaw and tilts his head up, showing Brett that he’s going to be by his side the entire way.

“Go over it one more time?” Liam asks, not really needing Brett to repeat the plan, but knowing that the sound of his voice will ease his nerves a bit.

Brett nods, knowingly. “Ally said they’re coming from that way,” He jerks his chin down the street, “I’ll do the talking when they get here, just be ready to duck for cover if things go south. Nothing stupid, yeah? We make a break for it.”

Liam closes his eyes and leans his head against Brett’s chest. He smells like sweat and dried blood, but the blond boy doesn’t care.

Between the two of them they’re armed only with a bat and a machete, because the only ranged weapons they have are Ally’s bow and Brett’s gun – and Corey and Allison are providing cover with them.

“We’re gonna be alright.” Brett tugs on his hand. “We’ll get through this.”

Liam stares into his eyes and can see that he doesn’t really believe his own words, but he’s grateful for the attempt anyway.

“I know.” He lies, chewing at his lip.

It’s a nerve-wracking hour before there’s any sign of Peter’s crew.

Liam’s insides twist up in dread when Peter struts into view. He’s flanked on either side by Kincaid and Derek, while the others bring up the rear. It’s the assault rifle in Peter’s hands that really shakes him, he can even feel Brett tense up at his side.

The group makes a slow approach, clearly smelling the trap. Peter’s icy eyes don’t leave Liam for a second, but the others are eyeing the rooftops – searching, but Allison’s hidden well enough that they won’t be able to spot her.

The rifle gets larger and larger as they approach and Liam feels all of his courage liquefy at the thought of Peter gunning Brett down in the street.

_Allison won’t let that happen. She’ll be quicker._

“Ah, there you are.” Peter’s grin gives Liam the urge to vomit. All of his muscles feel strained as the sleazy man continues, “We’ve been looking all over for you.”

“Go away.” Brett turns his shoulders, slightly putting himself in front of Liam. “We don’t want any trouble.”

“Is that how you treat your family, Liam? Don’t even offer a hello?” He makes a tsk sound and shakes his head. “Unfortunately, we can’t go anywhere. Not after you murdered another of my people. I know Severo was a bit rough around the edges, but you nearly beheaded him.”

Liam can see that there’s pure rage under the thin veil of composure. Peter’s always been an animal, masquerading as a simple yet charming man who recruits kids to distribute drugs for him.

Behind him Boyd’s expression is blank, not acknowledging the fact that he’s actually the one who killed Severo.

He looks to Brett, who’s thinking the same thing. _We could reveal it_ ; it’d cause enough of a disturbance among the group for Allison and Corey to get the drop on them.

“So where are the other _traitors_?” He asks, like he’s questioning how the neighborhood’s been lately; but the malevolence in his voice at the word ‘traitors’ is unmistakable. “You’re waiting for us, so I can assume that means they made it here.”

“None of your damned business.” Liam presses up to Brett’s side.

“Now, now, Liam.” Peter shakes his head. “Why can’t we talk this out like friends? We were family once.”

“Leave.” He tries to sound confident, but his voice wobbles in the face of those calculating eyes.

“You know very well that isn’t going to happen.” He snaps. “Now why don’t you hand over my children for punishment and I’ll see what I can do about letting the two of you . . . friends?” His spitefulness melts into mocking. “Have a few hours alone before execution.”

“No one’s dying.” Derek’s voice is a surprise to Liam and apparently to Peter too.

“Excuse me?” He’s in the process of turning when Derek kicks out the back of his knees and wraps an arm around his throat.

Boyd moves at the same time and knocks Kincaid upside the head with a crowbar, dropping the giant of a man. Meanwhile, Braeden keeps her shotgun trained on Brett and Liam – but her posture is clearly more concerned with the others in her own group.

“What are you doing?” Violet shrieks, looking around. Erica and the other kids seem as bewildered as she is.

“Saving your lives.” Derek barks, unfazed by Peter’s clawing hands. He doesn’t release his uncle until he goes limp and blacks out. “We’re not killing anyone. Peter’s let too many kids die already for a cure that doesn’t exist.” He turns to directly face Allison, despite her cover. “Bring out my people and we can talk this through.”

“How do we know this isn’t a trap?” Brett wants to believe it, Liam can see that much. He’d resigned himself to the inevitability of bloodshed and the chance that they might avoid it is an incredibly tempting proposal for him.

“You don’t.” Derek says, flatly. “But you can deal with me now, or we can wait for my uncle to come around and then we’ll all be in trouble.”

“Derek, you can’t do this!” Violet advances on him and pounds on his arm.

“Easy, little girl.” Braeden swoops in and bends her arms behind her back, while staring the others down. “Anyone else have an issue?”

There’s hesitation in the group. Clearly this little plan wasn’t shared with the entire group – just a small coup launched by Derek, Braeden, and Boyd.

Erica’s looking at the latter, clearly upset with what he’s done.

Braeden’s about to turn back – satisfied with their silence – when one of the boys makes a break for it, taking off towards an alleyway.

“Let him go!” Derek booms, stopping both Braeden and Allison from firing on him. “No one needs to stay if they think they’ll be able to make it on their own out there.” He looks directly at Violet and she shrinks back.

Liam recognized the kid who ran as Sean Walcott. All he really knows about the guy is that he’s an asshole, but he’s probably got every right to be – considering some psychopath murdered his entire family and nearly killed him as well a few years back.

“Where’s Corey?” It takes Liam a minute to recognize the speaker as Josh Diaz. He’s not much older than Liam and he recalls him doing more drugs than he’d ever sold.

“Josh.” Corey stands up, revealing his place on the balcony.

Liam tenses for a moment, half-expecting Peter to stand up and reveal that it was all a trick to get Allison and Corey to blow their ambush strategy.

Josh smiles, clearly relieved to see Corey alive and breathing. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“There’ll be time for a reunion later.” Derek cuts off Corey’s reply. “Get Carrie and come down here so we can talk this over.”

None of them answer nor show any sign of wanting too.

It doesn’t take Derek long to see through their silence. “I see . . .” There’s no indication of any emotion on his face, and Liam’s almost wishing that Peter were the one in charge still – _at least I can read him_. “Let’s talk then.”

* * *

Watching Brett in action is like watching an idealistic man compromise his and his loved ones safety to accommodate as many people as he can.

_Or exactly like that._

He, Derek, and Allison have taken the lead, all pulling in different directions.

Liam – meanwhile – spends his time sizing up everyone in Derek’s group. He knows not to mess with Braeden from firsthand experience, but the others don’t look so bad. Josh has scarcely let Corey out of his sight since they all gathered in the reception area of the building. Erica stopped shooting daggers at him when Boyd pulled her aside and whispered in her ear like a parent disciplining a child. That girl, Tracy, scares Liam a bit, but she doesn’t seem too bad. Then there’s Violet . . . he tries not to look at her too long. Every time she catches him staring he can feel her hatred in waves.

Isaac and Lydia joined them when they came inside, against Allison’s instructions, but Liam has a feeling they’ll be disobeying her a lot more if those defiant stares meant anything.

“We can do that.” Brett nods, rubbing at his chin and acknowledging Allison’s tepid agreement. “In exchange for one of those rifles.”

“Why would we do that?” Derek’s eyebrows lift.

“You outnumber us as it is.” Brett points out. “If we’re going to give you supplies and agree to restrict our scavenging grounds to the west side of the city, you can pay us back with some firepower.”

Derek looks at the five of them, scrutinizing Isaac and Lydia in particular. “This is it?”

“Yes.” Allison’s fingers twitch. Liam knows it’s an instinct to draw her bow in defense, but she plays nice.

“We have a dog too.” Brett says, after a moment of Derek looking suspicious. “If we’re getting everything out in the open.”

Derek smiles unexpectedly. “A dog?”

“Yeah.” Brett nods, glancing back at Liam. “Let me know if you want to take it off our hands.”

The older man looks at Liam and for once he doesn’t seem so intimidating. “Yours?”

“Uh, yeah.” Liam coughs into his fist.

He nods. “Alright. You can have one rifle . . . one last thing, though.”

“What is it?” Brett looks ready to collapse out of relief.

“Mind letting us know where you left Carrie’s body?” He speaks lowly, only to their group, and sends a concerned look over his shoulder to where Corey’s being bandaged up by Boyd and Josh. “Something tells me he isn’t going to have coherent instructions.”

“The Italian restaurant on Mount Auburn Street.” Brett’s jaw clenches at the memory of what took place there. Liam hasn’t had the nerve to ask him about it yet, but Corey pulled him aside earlier and told him the story in a whisper. He thanked the brunette for not letting Brett do it – Liam isn’t sure he’d be able to live with himself.

“Thanks.” Derek nods. He looks at each of them in turn. “We should get going. We need to secure a place before it gets dark.”

“Right. Isaac, help me fill up some bags for them.” The two older boys head upstairs, leaving Liam and the girls to clear their throats uncomfortably and scuff at the ground while they wait.

Liam seats himself near Corey.

“You’re going?”

“You should come too.” Corey offers.

Liam shakes his head, but the look in Corey’s eyes tells him that he didn’t expect any different.

“Take care of yourself then . . . it’s him isn’t it?”

He doesn’t answer right away. He doesn’t think he owes it to Corey to share anything about himself, but he’d be lying to himself if he didn’t admit that he has a soft spot for him. He wants to hold onto the anger and betrayal, but he can’t. Not after what Corey did for Brett.

He nods, faintly.

“I hope it works out.”

And that’s it. A few minutes later Brett and Isaac reenter the room with a few bags and pass them off to Derek and Braeden, – who hands over one of the assault rifles – while Boyd prepares the others for their departure.

“One last thing.” Brett looks nervous as he tries to help Braeden with a bag, when she very clearly needs no help. “About Peter . . .”

“I haven’t decided yet.” Derek’s mask is back and Liam isn’t sure if he’s telling the truth or not. “He’ll have a tight leash, don’t worry.”

“Thanks, but I think I’ll stick to worrying.”

“Smart.” Derek turns and begins to usher his group out onto the street. “Thanks. Hopefully we won’t be seeing you around.”

“You’re heading east.” Brett blurts out, taking a step forward. “I mean . . . avoid Bunker Hill, yeah? Last I saw it was overrun.”

Derek looks at him for a long time, before saying, “Thanks,” again and taking his leave.

Liam watches Brett’s face as their _guests_ leave. He looks conflicted, but Liam can’t blame him. _He gave away a lot of info to them and there’s no way we can really trust that they won’t come back to murder us in our sleep._

He touches Brett’s arm, making the older boy flinch.

“You’re tired.”

“So aren’t you.” Brett waves him off.

“I’m not.” Allison claps them each on a shoulder. “Get some sleep. I’ll take first watch.”

They’ve never needed a watch before, but Liam’s not going to argue. Not with their new neighbors.

* * *

“Stop squirming.” Brett mumbles in his ear, tightening the arm around Liam’s stomach.

“Sorry.” He sighs and rolls onto his back. Brett shifts with him and ends up resting his head against Liam’s bare chest. He cuffs his fingers through Brett’s hair, thankful to have him in his arms after what they went through today. “Just thinking.”

“Derek?” Brett questions, sleepily.

“Everything.” Brett doesn’t respond and Liam knows he’s waiting for clarification. He always gives Liam time to think instead of demanding all of his thoughts at one time. _It’s nice._ “Lithium, Carrie, how stupid I was to tell Corey about this place . . .”

Brett waits a minute to be sure he’s finished. “None of that’s your fault.” His fingers stroke Liam’s hip, comfortingly. “I should have told you about the Lithium sooner. And you couldn’t have known what would happen.”

“If they never came here . . .” He can’t finish the thought. Images of Carrie lying limply on that table – blood seeping into the makeshift tourniquet tied around her leg while she mumbles nonsense – flit through his mind.

“Then they might all be dead.” Brett lifts his head to look into Liam’s eyes. “You heard Corey. They were all going to die anyway if they didn’t get out of Dorchester’ not to mention that Derek’s in charge now.”

“Still . . .” _He hates you._ It was just about the only thing he’d been able to read about the mysterious man. _He blames you for Cora’s death._

“Everything’s okay, Li.” Brett assures him, leaning in for a quick peck that turns into a long, wet kiss. When they part they’re breathing heavily. “Try to sleep, yeah? We can talk in the morning.”

Liam presses his lips together and nods. Brett kisses him a final time, before resting his head on Liam’s chest again.

The younger boy wraps his arms around him and holds him tight, trying to warm up his perpetually chilled skin.

Zep lets out a jealous whine, but presses closer to the both of them – gradually coming to accept Brett as a permanent fixture in their bed.

“He’s starting to like you.” Liam scratches behind the dogs ears.

Brett peers down at Zep. “We came to an agreement that it’ll take two of us to keep your ass safe.”

“Thanks.” Liam kisses the top of Brett’s head. He presses his face into Brett’s wavy mop and inhales deeply, trying to hold back a wave of emotion. He wants to squeeze him as tightly as he can and never let go.

He lays there for a while, listening to the steady rhythm of Brett’s breathing and keeping time by his heartbeat.

It’s not until the older boy’s breathing slows and his weight becomes more relaxed on top of Liam that he allows himself to drift off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took so long guys, I'm shitty at planning and final's week was a bitch, I hope the length makes up for it :)
> 
> There wasn't supposed to be fluff in this chapter at all tbh, but I couldn't resist. I was going to end it at Derek's group leaving, but I couldn't resists adding the last bit. Anyway, Liam's got a choice ahead of him regarding the Lithium and Isaac and Lydia are obviously not too pleased with their girlfriend's secret keeping.
> 
> Anyway, let me know what you guys think! I should be better at updating now that I'm done with school for the summer.


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